NO PLAYS EXCHANGED, 



'Baker's Edition' 
6t Plays « 



PLACER GOLD 




COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 



A NEW PLAY FOR FEMALE CHARACTERS. 

A Companion to "REBECCA'S TRIUMPH." 

ANITA'S TRIAL; 

Or, Our Girls in Camp. 

By Esther B. Tiffany, author of "A Rice Pudding," "That Patrick," 
" Young Mr. Pritchard," etc. 

Price, -------25 cents. 

This is a bright and sparkling comedy in three acts, for eleven 
female characters. Its story is entertaining, and its dialogue dis- 
tinguished by this author's delicate humorous touch. One scene only 
is necessary for the three acts — a camp in the woods, easily arranged. 
The dresses are simple and picturesque camping costumes. The enor- 
mous success of " Rebecca's Triumph " has created a demand for this 
sort of piece, to meet which we confidently present "Anita's Trial," 
in which is solved, with no less success than in its predecessor, the 
difficult problem of constructing a play of strong human interest with- 
out the assistance of male characters. 



THE fi HRONOTHAMTOLETRON: 

OR, OLD TIMES MADE NEW. 

An entertainment in one act for sixteen girls, written for the Class Day 
Exercises at Dana Hall School, Wellesley, Mass., by two members 
of the Class of '87 and first performed before members of the school 
and their friends, June 18, 1887, and later at Ellsworth, Maine, 
April 6, 1888. 

Price, - - - ' • - - - - 25 cents. 



THE PEAK SISTERS. 

A humorous entertainment for young ladies. Arranged by Mary B. 
Horne. Any number of ladies may take part, but seven only are 
necessary. No scenery; costumes very simple. This laughable 
trifle meets with invariable success wherever performed. 

Price, -------15 cents. 



THE BOOK OF DRILLS. 

A group of entertainments for female characters for stage or floor per- 
formance, by Mary B. Horne, the author of " The Peak Sisters," etc. 

Price, -------30 cents. 



WALTER H. BAKER & CO, Publishers, 23 Winter St, Boston. 



PLACER GOLD 



OR 



HOW UNCLE NATHAN LOST HIS FARM 



& Nefo lEnglanfc JBrama tn 8%ro &tta 



DAVID HILL 



AUTHOR OF "FORCED TO THE WAR" "BOUND BY AN OATH 
" OUT OF HIS SPHERE " ETC. 



BOSTON 






1890 



*.%** 



CHARACTERS. 

NATHAN BARDWELL A farmer 

QUINCY BARD. WELL ) / T . 

NED BARDWELL J Hls sons 

JAMES MONROE Chum to Ned 

JOSEPH MURPHY Bardwell's hired man 

SQUIRE CROSBY . A miserly farmer with land joining Bardwell's 

MIKE O'CONNOR Crosby's hired man 

CHARLES MAYHEW) n ,, . . .. 

RICHARD BLYNN ) Gold-mine swindlers 

SHERIFF 

MARIA BARDWELL Nathan Bard-welVs wife 

BELLE BARDWELL The orphan 

NELLIE CROSBY Crosby's daughter 

MATILDA . . Crosby's hired girl, afterwards wife to O' 'Connor 
GIPSY The waif, living at Squire Crosby's 

PROPERTIES. 

ACT I. 

Scene i. — Ropes for jumping-, basket, cake knife, money, bottle, silver 
knives and forks, doll, wreath of flowers, and necklace. 

Scene 2. — Fiddle, horns, drum, tin pans, etc. Blunderbuss and nightcap 
for Nathan. Bundle for Ned. Moonlight. 

ACT II. 

Scene i. — Bottle containing samples of ore. Documents for Crosby. 

Drinking-cup at well. 
Scene 2. — Hollow log to crawl into. Pick axes, shovels, axe, and pans for 

washing gold. Ore and gravel on stage. Stuffed owl. Two revolvers. 

Documents for Crosby, and pen for signing paper. Gold bricks. Small 

tin trunk for Gipsy. 

ACT III. 
Scene i. — Pipe for Joe. Bucket of water at well. Pistol for Gipsy. Gun 

and cane for Nathan. 
Scene 2. — Album on table. Package of money, Bible, and documents. 
Scene 3. — Torch for lighting. Large frame motto, "Welcome Home," 

for illuminating. 

NOTE. —The elaborate scenery called for by this piece is only necessary 
in professional stage performances. For amateur production it may be 
much simplified, three scenes being all that are absolutely needed for full 
representation of the piece. 




Copyright, 1890, by Walter H. Baker & Co. 



TMP96-G06433 



SYNOPSIS. 

ACT. I. 

SCENE I. — The bridal party on the lawn. Ned Bardwell, the runa- 
way. Uncle Nathan and Squire Crosby. " The jinin' of your darter 
ter my son has sealed a bond o' friendship atween us that ought ter 
last a lifetime." Mike O'Connor and his new clothes. Why he was 
two hours late. Fun by the bushel. Rope-jumping, song-singing and 
dancing. Distributing the wedding gifts. Joe Murphy lelt out in the 
cold. All promenade. 

SCENE II. — Uncle Nathan's dooryard. The midnight serenade. 
Waking the married couple. Fiddle, horns and tin pans. The blun- 
derbuss. "Hello! you, there! ain't you hit?" "Be jabers, I am; 
but the fiddle ain't." Welcoming the serenaders. Ned, the runaway. 
Picture in the window. " Ah, 1 could tell that face among a thous- 
and." His interview with Gipsy. A sudden farewell. Uncle Nathan 
excited. The serenaders happy. " Now that we've rousted the new 
bride, and feasted, and emptied the ould gintleman's cider jug, I feel 
loike taking my quiet departure." Act closes with song-singing and 
" Virginia Reel." 

ACT II. 

SCENE I. — Uncle Nathan's dooryard same as in Act I., Scene II. After 
eleven years. Time — morning. Nathan's story to Belle about the 
giant. "Was you always good, grandpa ? " Mike O'Connor creates 
a surprise. Crosby and the bogus mine swindler. They interview 
Uncle Nathan. Placer gold. Crosby's proposition. Nathan cautious. 
" Dog gone it ! how do I know there is any gold?" The bogus offer 
and refusal. Plan to meet in Rocky Run Two documents and what 
they contained. Gipsy's warning. " If money cannot purchase your 
farm ; if you love it to the extent that your words imply, don't you 
sign those papers." Picture. 

SCENE II. — The gold mine of Rocky Run. Mike and Joe digging 
for gold. Afraid of ghosts. Story of Tom Piper and the goose. 
Frightened by an owl. Almost discovered. A hollow log and a tree 
a place of security. Stealing information. Plot to rob Uncle Nathan 
of his farm. Caught listening. A peculiar predicament. Silenced 
for two hundred dollars. Crosby, Uncle Nathan and Belle. Placer 
gold in abundance. Uncle Nathan convinced of his good luck. Mort- 
gage on the farm. Gold bricks. A curious tablet "Here — here is 
my tablet, Crosby. It shall be innocence beneath these papers, an' a 
God ter witness 'em above, an' if evil is in 'em, may they burn the 
hearts of those who wrought 'em." The spectre among the rocks. 
Gipsy and the tin trunk. " Nathan Bardwell ! this is the gold mine 
of Rocky Run." A startling finale. Tableau. 

3 



SYNOPSIS. 



ACT III. 



SCENE I. —Uncle Nathan's dooryard as in Act I. and Act II. Without 
a home. Mike and Joe. They exchange secrets. Matilda again. 
Mike hides in the well. Overhears his wife making love to Joe. 
" Yeez can have her, Joe, yeez can have her." Discovered. A good 
ducking. Gipsy t6 the rescue. Last day at the old farm. Ejected 
by the sheriff. Gipsy and the pistol. " Lay a finger upon me, and 
you will find me a human tigress." Uncle Nathan protects his home. 
He is overpowered. Gipsy interferes. " Back ! I say ! Your au- 
thority relates to the farm and not to Nathan. Touch him again if 
you dare." Picture. 

SCENE II. — Parlor in Crosby's house. Blynn in search of his daugh- 
ter. His interview with Gipsy. The mysterious letter in India ink. 
Gipsy his long lost daughter. Refusing his caresses. " Wait ! 
thankful though I am to find a father, etc." Blynn tells of his reforma- 
tion. Ned Bardwell and Gipsy. Business first and love afterwards. 
The demand of Richard Blynn. Crosby's refusal. The two Irishmen. 
a We've turned state's evidence, your honor." Ned Bardwell's 
threat. Blynn's advice. Squire Crosby without a friend. Alone 
with Gipsy and Belle. The family Bible, and what it contained. Past 
memories revived. Melted to tears. " I thought I was hardened — 
case hardened ; but I am not. There is a tender spot left yet." Never 
too late to reform. Sequel to placer gold. End of the mortgage. 
The way Belle disposed of a fraud. Picture. 

SCENE III. — Uncle Nathan's dooryard as in other Acts. Back on 
the old farm. Time — evening. Curious conundrums. A poor 
man's experience. Has to dig through six feet of solid silver in order 
to strike gold. An old man's whim. Carries a twenty-pound weight 
five miles to balance a twenty pound weight on his way back. Matilda 
not to be outwitted. Visiting the old home. " Here we are, Maria, 
creepin' up ter our old home like two thieves in the night." He is 
shocked by hearing laughter within the nouse. " Did ye hear that, Maria 
Did ye hear that ? " Not to be reconciled. " They have no hearts, no 
feelin's, no sense of compassion an' I'll tell 'em of it." Gipsy's welcome. 
Uncle Nathan in doubt. A grand explanation. Blynn and Crosby 
give back the farm and crave forgiveness. Two grandpas to love 
now. A second surprise. Ned in the arms of his parents. Too 
happy for utterance. " Maria, I — I'm young again. I'm put back 
twenty years in life." The illuminated motto, " Welcome Home." 
A happy termination. 



PLACER GOLD 



ACT I. 

SCENE I. — A lawn interspersed with trees, vases of 
/lowers, etc. Landscape back to match. An ornamental 
fence running across staqe tack with archway in center. 
Set trees l. and r. Symphony of chorus in the distance as 
curtain rises. Enter, C, two young girls dressed in white, 
each holding a wand. They remain standing each side of 
archway. These are followed by Quincy and his bride, 
the young people, Squire Crosby and Matilda, and 
Uncle Nathan and Maria. They all form two lines 
toward front. The two in white now pass down center 
and around the outside, followed by the others in order as in 
a promenade. After circling twice or more around the 
stage, the two in white pause L. I e., one on each side 
of entrance, the others pass through, and are followed by 
the two in white. For effect there must be no pause, 
and singing must be continued until all have disap- 
peared. 

SONG. 
Air. — " Come merry birds in winter.' 1 ' 1 

Wake ! merry hearts, awaken ! 
Make the bright welkin ring, 
Loud with our shouts of gladness, 

Vocal with songs we sing. 
Cheerful and happy ever, 

Free from all sorrow and pain, 
Shout ! for a day so joyous 
To us will not come again. 

Chorus. — Oh, we will scatter flowers 

Along the smooth highway, 
This ever bright and joyous, 
Eventful wedding day. 
Wake ! merry hearts, awaken ! 

Sweet wedding bells have rung ; 
Two hearts are now united, 
And beating same as one. 
Cheer them along their pathway, 
Sing them some happy refrain, 
Shout ! for a day so joyous 
To them, will not come again. 
Chorus. — Oh, we will scatter flowers, etc. 



6 PLACER GOLD. 

{All exeunt, l. 3 e.) 
{Enter Ned Bardwell, c. He crosses to l. 3 e., and 

watches the pai'ty in the distance. ) 
• Ned. There they go, chattering and singing like a flock 
of crazy blackbirds. Scattering themselves among the trees 
to feast on wedding sweetmeats, and stare at Quincy's bride. 
Ha! ha! ha! Quincy married, and I, his brother, turned 
out of the house. Well, I'm the black sheep among the 
flock — the bad egg out of the thirteen. I'm the governor's 
scape-goat. Didn't he say to me this morning, " Ned, quit 
this house ; and don't you return until you can do so an 
obedient and dutiful son." {Enter fro?n c, Joe and Gipsy 
in great haste, and cross l. They are busily talking, and do 
not perceive Ned in front of them.) Haven't I left? 
Haven't I sworn never to return ? I never will — (Joe and 
Gipsy run against him.) 

Gipsy {starting back in surprise) . O my ! 

Joe {holding on to his head) . I'm struck wid a brickbat. 

Ned. Well, what do you take me for — the highway ? 

Gipsy. Oh, Ned ! you are real mean. 

Joe. Be jabers ! he's a perfect jackass. 

Ned {laughing). That's what the governor said this 
morning. Complimentary, wasn't he ? But I say, Gip, 
why aren't you with the rest ? 

Gipsy. What a question ! Didn't I wait for you until I 
nearly missed the wedding ? Didn't I wait for you at the 
church until alLhad gone, and Joe had to serve as my escort ? 
Then didn't I get my dress caught on a brier ? O Ned ! I 
forgot. How do you like my dress ? {IVhirling around.) • 
Pretty, isn't it ? You ought to have heard the Squire groan 
when he paid for it. Why, he actually shed tears. But you 
haven't told me how I look ? 

Ned. You haven't given me time. One would almost 
take you for the bride. 

Gipsy. I wish I was. There ! I don't either: O dear ! 
what made you quarrel with your father ? Then to disap- 
point me so. How could you ? 

Ned. Well, Gip, it is unnecessary for me to explain. I 
may be to blame, I admit that ; but I am too stubborn to 
return. I am going away. 

Gipsy {in surprise) . Going away, Ned ? 



PLACER GOLD. 7 

Ned. Yes — off to the mines. I'm going to strike gold 
or bust. 

Gipsy. Oh, Ned, please "bust " just as quick as you can. 
Come ! be reasonable. Here ! I want you as my escort. 

Joe. He-e-e-em. 

Gipsy. Ha ! ha ! ha ! — I forgot. You are my escort, 
aren't you, Joe ? Well, we won't quarrel ; but if he should 
consent — 

Joe. Sure, thin I should be loike the ten vargins ; left 
out in the cold. 

Ned. No, Gip. Go in as you have started ; but when 
an opportunity offers, slip out and see me alone. I will hide 
among the trees until you return. 

Gipsy. Well, just as you say. I have a good mind not 
to, though. It would serve you just right. Come, Joe. 
( Wheeling him into line. ) Right about face — eyes to the 
front — steady — forward — march ! {They exeunt L. 3 E.) 

Ned. What a girl. Full of life and spirit as the birds of 
the air. Gushing, at times, with laughter, then sentimental, 
then fierce as a mountain lion, with a temper that knows no 
bounds. Would that I knew the history of her birth. 

Monroe {enters c). Hello, Ned, repenting at leisure ? 
Why, I'm all ready for a start. 

Ned. I shall be with you to-night. When darkness sets 
in, I shall enter my room by the window, secure my wearing 
apparel, and then farewell to home and friends. 

Monroe. And to Gipsy at the same time. By Jove ! I 
should hate to leave that piece of property behind. She's a 
claim by herself. 

Ned. Yes, and she may prove a lost claim ,to me. 
However, it is too late to repent now. 

Monroe. By the way, Ned, how will the old man take it 
when he finds out you mean business ? 

Ned. Oh, he looks at grief with a smile, and always did. 
My regrets are for my mother. A mother can never forget. 

Monroe. Well, when we strike that hundred thousand, 
you can write home, and all will be forgiven. I tell you — 
you might repent now ; ask the old man's forgiveness, marry 
Gip, and — 

Ned. Hold ! Jim ; none of that. The die is cast, and I 
shall abide by my fate. {Looking off.} Gipsy is returning, 
so conceal yourself. I would see her alone. 



8 PLACER GOLD. 

Monroe. All right, Ned. I shall not trouble you unless 
I think I can cut you out. {They exit r. i e.) 
(Gipsy enters l, 3 e.) 

Gipsy. IVe come. Why, where are you ? (Ned enters 
r. 1 e.) Oh, there you are. (Runs to tneet him.) Now 
haven't I been a real good Gip to return so soon ? 

Ned (kissing her). You are always good to me, Gip, 
better than I deserve. Will it continue, think you, through 
the lapse of years that shall roll between us ? 

Gipsy. Oh, Ned, you are not going away ? 

Ned. Yes, Gip ; to-night, after securing what clothing I 
shall need, I strike out into the world. (Gipsy about to 
speak. N~et> places his hand over her mouth.) Hold, now ; 
don't upbraid me. Remember, it is for the best. 

Gipsy. But it is wicked of you to leave me alone. If 
you go away, I shall never see you again, never. 

Ned. Yes, you will, Gip, if you will do as I wish. 
Cheer up and let me ask you a question. Will you answer 
it as I desire ? 
. Gipsy. Perhaps. I hadn't ought to, though. It would 
serve you just right. 

Ned. Never mind that. From the hour Squire Crosby 
found you a little waif by the way-side, and took you in, I have 
always liked you. We have grown up as children together 
— only my father's farm between his cottage and yours. I 
like your wild and roving ways ; the witticisms of your 
speech ; your love of the woods, and flowers, and birds — 

Gipsy. And animals, too, Ned. Why, I frightened 
Matilda nearly to death the other day by carrying in a 
mouse by the tail. Just think of it ! right by the tail. 

Ned. Oh, hang the mouse ! Tell me if you will be true 
to me while I am away ? 

Gipsy. Certainly ; but you won't go now, will you ? 

Ned (impatiently). Gipsy, you refuse to believe me. 
As sure as the sun rises and sets I quit this place to-night. 
I have sworn to never return, and I never will uritil years 
have rolled between us, and I am independent with a fortune 
of my own. 

Gipsy. But this quarrel originated through your own 
fault. 

Ned. I admit all that. Nevertheless, I shall not return. 



PLACER GOLD. 9 

If I am a rough stick, it is better I should keep out of the 
way. 

Gipsy. You have never been rough to me, Ned ? 

Ned. No ; God bless you, Gip ! I have never harmed 
you by word or deed. (Kissing her.') There! now give 
me my promise, and I am off. 

Gipsy. Why, you have it already. 

Ned. Have I ? Perhaps I have ; but you gave it so 
lightly, you know. Good-bye, Gip, I will see you again 
to-night. Until then, farewell. {Kisses her, and rushes off 

R. I E.) 

Gipsy {goes r. i e. and looks off). O dear! when he is 
gone the world will seem like a great, big, empty kettle. I 
don't believe he'll go, though. If I did, I'd sit right down 
here ker-plump {sits down) and cry. {Laughing.) I don't 
care ! I feel sober if I do laugh. 

{Enter from l. 3 e., Uncle Nathan and Squire Crosby 
talking. ) 

Uncle Nathan. Squire, let us shake. {They shake 
hands.) The jinin' of your darter ter my son has sealed a 
bond 'o friendship atween us that ought ter last a lifetime. 
As Davy Crocket would say, " May I be shot ! " if I don't 
hope it will. 

Crosby. Yes — yes, I hope so; but connected with a 
wedding, it is mighty expensive. A hundred dollars wasted 
on gewgaws and knickknacks that are of no account. Just 
think of it. 

Gipsy {aside). Just think of it. W-h-e-w ! 

Uncle N. Well, Squire, the gal is off your hands now, 
gewgaws an' all. Ain't ye glad ? I — I reckon ye are, 
Squire. You're rid of a bill of expense. I tell ye, Crosby, 
yer don't look at wealth in the right light. Why, if I had 
money — money like as you have, I — I — I'd scatter it all 
around a-tryin' ter make other people happy. Hang me ! if 
I wouldn't. 

Crosby. And live a pauper all your days. Ah, no ; 
Give me gold — gold. I love to see it glitter; feel its magic 
touch in my hand ; stack it Up in piles ; shake it, and hear it 
jingle. There's music in the sound — music. Save money, 
Nathan; save money. Hoard it up — keep it. When you 
are old, you can count it, gloat over it — 



IO PLACER GOLD. 

Gipsy (imitating him). Butter it and eat it. Give me 
money, or — Oh, Father Crosby; if I had money, do you 
know what I would do with it ? 

Crosby (snappishly). Yes; throw it to the dogs and 
die poor. 

Gipsy. No I wouldn't, either. 

Crosby. Well, what would you do with it ? 

Gipsy. I'd buy a pig. 

Crosby. A pig ? What would you do with a pig ? 

Gipsy. Oh, I'd twist its tail and hear it squeal. (Imi- 
tating.) There's music in the sound — music. (Laughs.) 

Crosby. The minx. (Retires up stage angrily, seats 
himself on bench R. of c.y 

Uncle N. (laughing, and crossing to Gipsy). Lord 
bless ye, Gipsy, if yer couldn't crack a joke, you'd die 
quicker'n Stebben's dog did when he got choked with a 
bone. Darn me ! if you ain't sharp as a razor. (Chucking 
her under the chin.) W-w-why, gal, if I warn't an old man, 
an' married at that, I'd smack you with a good old fatherly 
kiss — stick me with Burgundy pitch if I wouldn't. 

Gipsy (looking sober). Oh, no, Uncle Nathan, you 
couldn't kiss me to-day, nohow. 

Uncle N. What! couldn't kiss you to-day ? Lord bless 
ye, gal, what has the day ter do with it ? 

Gipsy. Oh, I'm not happy to-day. I'm out of sorts — 
that's all. 

Uncle N. Out o' sorts ? Why, gal, ye look happy 
enough. Lord bless ye, I guess ye do. Out o' sorts ? 
Ha ! ha ! ha ! I — I didn't know you was ever tooken with 
that disease. What brought it on ; biliousness ? 

Gipsy. Oh, you know. 

Uncle N. Hey ? It ain't that scapegoat son o' mine ? 
The ungrateful rascal! Not content with abusin' his old 
father, he must show his wilfulness by slightin' the weddin'. 
Let him go, Gipsy, let him go. He's not worthy of you. 
Not worthy of you no more nor a kicking colt is worthy of a 
new harness. Let him go, I say. 

Gipsy (looking up archly into his face) . Uncle Nathan, 
won't you forgive him ? 

Uncle N. (excited). Forgive him ? Me forgive my 
son t B-b-blast it ! gal, he should ask my forgiveness. 



PLACER GOLD. I I 

Didn't he abuse me — mc, his father ? Didn't he, I say ? 
Then why should I forgive him ? 

Gipsy. Because I love him. If you don't forgive him, 
he will never return. 

Uncle N. Let him go, then — let him go. I've loved 
my children — IVe indulged 'em — I've petted an 1 babyed 
'em ; an' this is my reward for it. Let him go, I say. 

Gipsy. But he will never return. 

Uncle N. Won't he ? won't he return ? Er — er — let 
him go, then. If he likes roughin' it, an' dissolute compan- 
ions better than his mother who worships him, or his father, 
who 'ud fight for him till he broke the last bone in his 
rickerty old body, let him have them. He'll see the dif- 
ference sometime — sometime, Gipsy. 

Gipsy. But, Uncle Nathan — 

Uncle N. I won't — I won't — I won't hear another 
word — another word — not a word. He's a jackanapes ! an 
impudent rascal ! a dissolute rogue ! a — a — 

Gipsy (jumping up and placing her handover his mouth). 
Uncle Nathan, Ned is your son. Now don't be angry with 
Gip, please don't. Sit right down here and laugh. (He 
tries to release her hand.) No ; I'm going to hold my hand 
right over your mouth until you smile. (He sits down.) 
There! (Looking into his face.) Are you smiling, Uncle 
Nathan? (Uncle Nathan seen to smile.) Ha! ha! you 
are. I knew you couldn't keep angry with me, could you ? 

Uncle N. (laughing). Why, gal, what are ye made on 
— what are ye made on. Darn me! if you won't make a 
man rave like a tornado, then smooth him all down like the 
surface of a lake without a ripple on it. What are ye made 
on, Gip ? 

Gipsy. Clay, Uncle Nathan. (Looking off l.) Ah, 
here they come. Let's meet them. (Catches hold of Uncle. 
Nathan, and whirls him over to l.) 

Uncle N. Hold on — hold on, gal! you're yankin 1 the 
life clean out of me. 

(Enter from l. 3 e., Quincy and 'Nellie, followed by Mrs. 
Bardwell, Matilda, Joe and others. They scatter to 
different parts of the stage. Joe comes down L. Quincy 
and his bride seat themselves l. c.) 



12 PLACER GOLD. 

Gipsy (l. a). Oh, Mrs. Bardwell, do scold Uncle 
Nathan. WeVe had a quarrel, and made up, and all inside 
of five minutes. 

Mrs. B. Just as I expected. I have to keep my eye 
upon him continually, or he is sure to get into trouble. 

Uncle N. Maria ! Maria ! don't show me off right afore 
my new darter-in-law. Doggone it ! if it wasn't for you I 
might be taken for a President. {Crossing to Nellie.) 
Look a-here, Nellie, you look as slick as a duck in full 
plumage. Why, I wouldn't mind a-weddin 1 of ye myself. 

Mrs. B. Nathan! 

Uncle N. B-b-blest if I didn't forget that you was 
present. {All laugh.) Come, Maria, let's you and I 
crochet ter a seat, and show less. {Takes her arm and 
crosses to seat R. I E.) 

Gipsy {to Nellie). Say, Nellie, do you know what is 
the matter with Father Crosby ? 

Nellie. No ; do you, Gipsy ? 

Gipsy. Yes, he's had a shock. 

Nellie. A shock ? 

Gipsy. Yes, I shocked him. He"ll live through it 
though. {Running to Crosby and throwing her arms 
around his neck.) Won't you, Father Crosby ? 

Crosby. Go away, child. You bother me. 

Gipsy {laughing). Then I'm like a fly, ain't I ? But 
you are not angry with me, are you ? 

Crosby. No; only so much nonsense irritates me. Irri- 
tates me, child. 

Gipsy {laughing). Well, the best remedy for an irrita- 
tion, that I know of, is sweet oil. {Laughing, and crossing 
to Joe.) Come, Joe, let's wake up the crowd. This is 
altogether too quiet for a wedding. 

Joe. Shure and I'm ov the same moind meself. {They 
pass from one to the other, laughing and talking.) 

Quincy. Yes, let us all be merry. We know not what the 
morrow may bring forth. 

Uncle N. I reckon ter me it will bring forth a-shearin' 
o' sheep — 

Mrs. B. Keep still, Nathan. 

Uncle N. Lord bless ye, Maria, can't a man waddle his 
tongue without being cruppered ? 



PLACER GOLD. I 3 

(Mike heard singing off r. c. ) 
Gipsy. Hurrah ! here comes Mike. Now we'll have 

some music. 

Matilda. I'd rather hear it thunder than hear an 

Irishman sing. (Crosses io r. c.) 
Mike (singing). 

Young Rory O'More courted Kathleen Bawn, 
He was bold as a hawk, she soft as the dawn, 
He wished in his heart pretty Kathleen to please, 
And he thought the best way to do that was to tease. 
Now Rory be aisy, etc. , etc. 

(Enters c.) 

Mike. Och ! its glad I am to see your swate faces, 
though it's meself that is tardy in getting here. Upon me 
sowl I hurried loike a man afther the doctor ; but a 
slight accident debarred me from reaching the wedding in 
time to kiss the bride. 

Nellie. Did you meet with an accident, Mike ? 

Mike. Why, av coorse. Have you noticed this suit ? 
Bad luck to the tailor who stole the goose, if he didn't shave 
from the cloth, and add to the bill. Consequently, when I 
put it on it was as tight as a number five shoe on a number 
eight foot. As I stooped to pick up a bill which I had 
drapped, there was a gineral breakin' away av the back 
stiches, which left me in a demoralized condition, I kit. tell 
yeez. "What is that?" sez I. "Only a slight tare," 
sez he. " Tare an' ages !" sez I, " what's to be done ?" 
" Sthand where you are," sez he, "and I will make an 
insertion." Begorra, I stood for two mortal hours loike a 
stationary cigar sign, while he stitched me into proper shape 
to recave company. Thin what did the dirthy spalpeen do 
afther the job was complayted, but add onother tin dollars 
to the bill. 

Nellie. Why, what was that for ? 

Mike. For the insertion, av coorse. Did ye iver see the 
loiks ? (He turns around, and shows large strip of black 
cloth stitched into back of coat and seat of his pantaloons ; 
all laugh.} 

Gipsy (laughing). Why, Mike, you are like Joseph with 
a coat of many colors. 

Joe. Yis, loike a postage stamp — stamped. 



14 PLACER GOLD. 

Mike. Av coorse I am. Didn't the spalpeen say, 
' ' Variety was the spice of life ? " Begorra ! I had to pay 
for the spice. {Retires icp stage. All laugh-, to Nellie.) 
Arrah, acushla, you look as bloomin' as a shamrock in 
spring. Shure it's meself wishes someone had sent a kiss to 
yeez through my conveyance. 

Nellie. Oh, never mind that, Mike. I don't need any. 

Gipsy. And if she did, Ouincy would convey them, 
never you fear. Wouldn't you Quince ? 

Quincy. Well, I should do my duty; but what about 
that song ? 

All {together). Yes, a song ! a song ! 

Mike. Och ! niver yez moind a song till the band is 
ready to play. Skippin' the rope is the delight ov ladies, 
and the gintlemen ain't slow to indulge in the same enjoy- 
ment. {Taking rope from his pocket.) Shure it's meself 
nades a partner to do honor to the occasion. 

Gipsy {coming forward). Well, I'm here. 

Mike. Begorra, so you are. I should have known it 
without your spakin'. Shure you look as fresh as a pink in 
the spring with the dew on it. Now to limber the joints, 
an' thin we'll have the song afterwards. 

{Music. Mike and Gipsy jump rope, which is swung by 
Joe and one other. If preferred they can jufnp separate 
ropes swung by themselves. All cheer at close. ) 

Uncle N. {rising and co?ning forward). Look a-here, 
now, I wouldn't mind tryin' a hand at that air rope myself. 

Mike {handing him rope) . Begorra ! you kin have the 
floor at your own convanyance. Come ! form a ring and let 
the ould gintleman limber his trotters. 

( They for?n a half circle with Uncle Nathan in the center. 
All are laughing and talking. ) 

Mrs. B. (l. i e.). Now, Nathan, don't make a fool of 
yourself. 

Uncle N. Lord bless ye, Maria, don't be so pesky can- 
tankerous. Let me alone, can't ye ? Why, I feel as frisky 
as a two-year-old steer. Frisky ? I — I guess I do. I kin 
take the kinks out 'o this ere rope quicker'n it took Tom 
Hooker ter pop the question. I — I — I guess I kin. 



PLACER GOLD. 1 5 

Gipsy. Wait ! Father Crosby must join us. (Running 
down stage to R. C.) Come ! you are wanted in the ring. 

Crosby. Away! Such frivolities are boorish. Racket 
and confusion without profit. 

Gipsy. Oh, well, this is a free show, so come along. 
{Leads him into the circle.} 

Uncle N. Come ! I'm getting anxious ter show off. 
Lord bless ye, I feel all of a nettle, as the boy said jumpin 1 
into 'em arter he'd been in swimmin'. Are ye reach ? 

Mike. Av coorse — av coorse. It's on the anxious seat 
we are, awaitin' the motion ov your rivirence. 
{Music. Business of Uncle Nathan jumping rope. When 

he has finished, all cheer and clap their hands. Nathan 

goes R. i e.)* . 

Gipsy. Now, Mike, let us hear from you. 

Mike. Hear from me, is it ? Begorra ! I'd be ashamed 

* Note. — If Uncle Nathan wishes to introduce a song at this point, the 
following dialogue may be used : 

Gipsy {after all Jiave finished). O listen ! I want to say something. 

Mike. Begorra ! you always did. 

Quincy. What is it, Gip? 

Gipsy. I want Uncle Nathan to sing the first song. 

All {cheering). Hurrah! hurrah! give us a song! a song! 

Uncle N. A song? Me sing a song? Lord bless ye ! I sung one once, 
an' — an' what d'yer s'pose was the result ? 

Joe. An engagement at fifty dollars a week. 

Uncle N. Hey? Did you say anything? 

Gipsy. What was the result, Uncle Nathan ? 

Uncle N. Fined five dollars and costs for breakin' the peace. 

All {together ; laughing). Give us the song! Give us the song! 

Gipsy {going to him). Uncle Nathan, sing us the song, and then we'll 
introduce Mike. You will, won't you? 

Uncle N. I — I'd du anything ter please ye, Gip; but a song, I — I — . 
Howsomever, s'longs this's a weddin', I'll make a fool 'o myself, I'll be cow- 
cumbered if I won't. {Goes down front.) 

Mrs. B. Nathan ! 

Uncle N. Maria, will you keep quiet ? Lord bless ye ! quench a fire 
when it fust starts, an' you'll save the buildin'. They won't want ter hear me 
only once — only once, Maria, so here goes : 

{Song introduced.) 

{At close Uncle Nathan goes r. i e. All shout, " Hurrah for Uncle 

Nathan " wlten Jie has finished singing.) 

Uncle N. Wa'all Maria, I've lived through it. Passed through the fiery 
furnace like Shadrach an' Abednego, an' come out whole. Haven't I, now ? 
Jest look at me an' see. Lord bless ye, when you're asked ter du a thing, don't 
fidget an' wriggle around like a man hitched ter a hornet's nest, but jest go right 
ter work an' do it. Jest du it, I say. 

Mrs. B. Then, Nathan, will you please sit. down here and keep quiet ? 

Uncle N. Hey? Why, sartin' — sartin' I will, Maria. Why didn't ye 
speak about it afore ? {Sits down.) 



\6 PLACER GOLD. 

ov meself to refuse afther the present occasion. Jest make 
shure that you all kin sthand it, an 1 111 open wid all me 
batteries. 

(Mike introduces song if desired. When he has finished 
they all cheer and shout for another.} 

Mike. Och ! don't be afther askin' me again, or it's 
blushing I shall be entoirly. The man who shows himsel! 
to advantage the first time, better hold that advantage b 
keeping still. 

Matilda. I motion we go home. 

Mike. Arrah, I'm wid you, Matilda. Til go wid you. 

Matilda. You won't if I know it. 

Mike. O well ! it's not the first toime you've mittened 
me, so I kin sthand it. 

Gipsy. Wait ! we must distribute the presents. Go get 
them, Joe. (Joe exit c.) 

Nellie. Am I to be the recipient of presents ? Oh, 
this is a pleasure indeed. 

Quincy. Indeed it is ; and for which we express our 
heartfelt thanks. 

Mike. Don't be afther thankin' for a present until yeez 
have got it. Begorra ! it may fall short of the appreciation of 
your highness, if I so may be allowed the expression. 

Gipsy. Here they come. (Joe enters c. with basket, 
and advances front.} Now unpack them, Joe, and let me 
show them off. {Business of unpacking presents. Gipsy 
takes them.) Well, to begin with, here's a cake-knife. 
{Reading label.) From Squire Crosby's hired girl, Matilda. 
{Holding it up. ) Isn't it lovely ? 

Nellie {taking it). Just a little beauty. Oh, thank 
you, Matilda. 

Gipsy {taking package from Joe) . Then here's a twenty 
dollar bill. {Reading label.) From Uncle Nathan and 
Maria. (Quincy takes it.) 

Crosby. Ha ! extravagance ! extravagance ! 

Mike. Begorra ! I wouldn't moind some ov them presents 
meself. 

Gipsy {taking package). And here is a bottle of sooth- 
ing syrup. {Reading label.) From Joe. {Holds up bottle. 
All laugh.) 

Joe. Be jabers ! the druggist said they mo ; ght nade it. 



PLACER GOLD. I 7 

Quincy {taking bottle). And we may, Joe. We will 
keep it for future reference. 

Gipsy. Here is a set of silver knives and forks. {Reads 
label.) From Squire Crosby. 

Crosby. Cost eight dollars — eight dollars in cash. 

Nellie {taking them and looking them over) . And they 
are so nice. 

Mike {aside). He could pay a hundred dollars to the 
rest of us a cent and thin have money in the bank. 

Gipsy {taking present). Oh, what's this ? {Holding up 
large doll.) A doll, as I live ; and presented by Mike. 
{All laugh.) 

Mike. It'll come handy to go with the syrup. Kape it, 
acushla. 

Nellie {taking doll). Indeed, I will; and with many 
thanks. 

Gipsy. Oh, here's the loveliest present of all. {Holding 
up wreath of flowers.) A wreath of flowers and a necklace. 
The label reads : " Presented by admiring friends." {Hold- 
ing it up.) Isn't it splendid ? 

Nellie. Oh, how can we ever repay you all ! These 
presents are more than we deserve. 

Crosby. Altogether. Same amount invested in govern- 
ment bonds would be drawing interest. Good interest. 

Uncle N. Er — er — hang the interest, Crosby, when 
the principal is makin' others happy. Why, I'd ruther see 
sunshine on the faces of these young people, an 1 placed there 
through my money, than all the cowpons you could stick in 
a bushel basket. Hang me for a pirate, if I wouldn't. 

Crosby. Folly ! folly ! you are ruined through your gen- 
erosity, Nathan — your generosity. 

Uncle N. Wa'all I'm purty considerable kind 'o happy, 
Crosby, an' I kiender cakerlate you ain't. 

Gipsy. Let's put these things back in the basket, and 
then close with a promenade. {They fill basket.) Quince, 
you and Nellie lead off. {Aside.) I wish Ned was here. 

Quincy. Certainly. {Goes down stage, c.) Now let 
the rest form on. 

Mike {to Gipsy). Come, acushla, would yeez moind 
racavin 1 a partner afther the loiks ov meself ? 

Gipsy. Why, certainly not. {All form on except Joe 
and Matilda.) 



I 8 PLACER GOLD. 

Joe. (holding basket r. i e.). Well, where am I ? 

Mike. Begorra, yeez kin have Matilda. I didn't dare 
ask her meself. 

Matilda (l. i e.). I rather have him anytime than 
you. {They form on.) 

(Music. All promeTiade. Joe in rear with Matilda. He 
carries basket. When proper, Quincy and Nellie pass 
out C, followed by the others. Scene closes with same song 
as at opening. ) 

Note. — If necessary, the rope jumping can be omitted. 
In the sentence where Mike says: " Och ! niver yeez moind 
a song till the band is ready to play ; " let Gipsy answer : 
** O listen! I want to say something.'''' Then continue. In 
the same way Mike's song may be cut, if desired. 

TABLEAU CURTAIN. 

SCENE II. — Uncle Nathan's dooryard. The midnight 
serenade. Set farmhouse c. R. Fence across stage back 
with gate in center, and country landscape in the distance. 
If convenient, outhouses to the L. If not, set trees. Old- 
fashioned well near L. c, boxed up, and with sweep 
extending out l. Set trees near house with bench in front. 
Everything to make a farmer's dooryard complete. Square 
block near l. c, front, for seat. As curtain rises, Joe, 
Mike, Gipsy, Matilda and others are discovered, with 
fiddle, horns, dnun, pans, etc., giving serenade. Moon- 
light. For simplicity s sake the set of scene I ?nay be used 
for this scene with dark stage. 

Mike (c, to Joe, who stands in front of house with 
fiddle). Grase thim sthrings, ye spalpeen, or yeez will be 
afther razin' the whole country. Begorra ! they squake loud 
enough to wake the dead already. 

Joe. Shure I'm ov the same moind as yourself, Moike. 

(Chamber window seen to open, and Uncle Nathan, with 
night-cap on, looks down upon the crowd. As they con- 
tinue playing, he quietly withdraws, and soon reappears 
with blunderbuss, which he pokes out of window, and fires 
off over their heads. All disappear b?it Joe, who fiddles 
on undisturbed.) 



PLACER GOLD. 19 

Uncle N. {looking down at Joe). Helloa, you, there! 
ain't yer hit ? \ . 

Joe (playing) . Be jabers ! I am ; but the fiddle am t. 

Uncle N. I should know it — I should know it. Say, 
now, jest stop that consarned racket, an 1 — Til treat the hull 

CrOwd. r 17 J L 47 

Mike {rushing oitt from behind fence, followed by the 
others) . Begorra ! I'm wid you, as the tail said to the cat. 
Uncle Nathan disappears.} 

Uncle N. {appearing in doorway buttoning suspenders, 
end with candle in his hand, Night-cap still on). W-w- 
v, hat's goin' on here ? Ain't a fire anywheres, is there ? 

Gipsy {coming down). Hallo! Uncle Nathan. 

Uncle N. {shading his eyes with his hand) . Hey ? You 
here ? Well, well this beats all natur. Everybody broke 
loose jest like the dogs of Rome. 

Gipsy. Did you intend to shoot us, Uncle Nathan ? 

Uncle N. Did I ? Well, now, that's a purty for'ard 
question. A-a-ain't shot riz in market ? Couldn't waste 
a charge for nuthin', could I ? Lord bless ye, Gip, if you'd 
been in front of that air gun, it ud a-blowed ye into 
kingdom come as sure as natur. 

Matilda. O my ! 

Mike. Hould on, Matilda, the ould gmtleman was 

iokin'. . , 

Uncle N. Wa'all I s'pose you are arter that air son o 

mine an' his new bride ? 

Mike. Begorra, yeez have hit the nail on the head tne 

first toime. .... , 

Uncle N. {shouting inside). Maria! Maria! ain't them 

young people out o' bed yet ? .„',', 

Mrs. B. {inside). Yes, Nathan, they will be there 

shortly. 

Uncle N. Jest tell 'em it ain't perlite ter keep company 
waitin'. {Comes down.) Wa'all, the night is the same, an' 
the crickets chirrup jest as nat'ral as they did when I was a 
yengster, an' — an' went on a racket like this myself. Jest 
sech a racket precisely. 

Gipsy. You didn't wear that cap, did you, Uncle Nathan.' 
Uncle N. {placing his hand on his head). Hey ? Have 
I got my cap on ? Sure enough ! Wa'all, I'm forgetful, ye 
see ; but I'll take it off ter please ye . ( Takes off cap. ) 



20 PLACER GOLD. 

(Quincy and Nellie appear in doorway. All cheer.} 
Quincy. Good evening, friends. Allow me to present 
my bride. {Leads Nellie down steps.} 

Mike. And it's quite presentable she is with the moon- 
light fallin' on her features. Shure I wouldn't moind shakin' 
hands for the friendship I bear yeez. 

{All shake hands laughing and talking.} 

Quincy {after the greeting is over}. Now follow me into 
the house and we will give you the best the larder affords. 
{All cheer, and rush toward house. } 

Mike. Come, Matilda, I'll show you in. 

Matilda. All right, Michael. 

Uncle N. {stopping J oe, and taking fiddle from him}. 
Here ! don't for the life of ye take that air thing into the 
house. 

Joe {exhibiting surprise}. What the divil is the matter ? 

Uncle N. {placing it on bench}. Why, the pesky thing 
might get wound up agin, an' if it did it ud never stop. 
{Laughing.} Go on, Joe, it's all right — it's all right. 
{All exit into the house.} 

{Music. Ned enters cautiously fi'om L.) 

Ned. Now is the time to act. While they make merry 
within, I can steal into the window, secure my apparel, and 
escape unobserved. {Laughter within.} Hear them laugh ! 
Ten to one if they remember I ever existed. Well, it is 
only to see ourselves as we really are to know of how little 
importance we are in the eyes of other people. I wonder if 
Gip is among them. {Creeps to window. Singing and 
laughter continued. } Yes, there she is, the merriest of the 
group. Beyond her, seated with her head resting on her 
hands — Ah, I could tell that form among a thousand. 
Too often have I pillowed my head upon her breast, listened 
to her soft caresses, felt her tender kisses upon my lips, to 
forget the form of that mother who gave me birth. Well, 
well, I must to business, or I shall find myself at her feet 
and asking her forgiveness. {Steals to window R. H. front. 
Singing continued within.} Let them sing. It will drown 
the sound of my movements, and prevent my being dis- 
covered. 



PLACER GOLD. 21 

{Music. Gipsy emerges through doorway. Singing con- 
tinued.} 

Gipsy (coming front) . Well, I've got out without being 
missed. Now if I could see Ned, I should feel happy. 
Seems to me he ought to be here ; and if he is here, I 
ought to see him ; and if I do see him, I'll do my best to 
persuade him to give up his rash purpose. I presume he 
won't do it, though. O clear ! (Goes down R. H. Perceives 
window open.) Why, he has been here, and gone. (Looks 
into window.) No; he is on the inside. Til hide at the 
corner, and when he passes, I'll make him jump. (Hides at 
end of building. ) 

Ned (emerging through window with bundle). Well, I 
have burglarized my own apartment. Wonder if I should 
excel in the art if I followed it ? (Closes window.) Wish I 
could see Gip for a moment ; but time is too precious. The 
little witch doubts my words, and so may not put in an 
appearance. (Passes Gip and goes l.) 

Gipsy (sighing) . O dear ! 

Ned (starting and looking around) . What ! you here ? 
Blest if I noticed you. (Returns to Gip.) 

Gipsy. I don't think you wanted to. 

Ned. Yes I did, Gip. Don't imagine I think lightly of 
you. You are in my thoughts continually. I love you, Gip. 

Gipsy. Then why do you leave me ? 

Ned. Under the circumstances I consider it a duty. 

Gipsy. Is it a duty to break your mother's heart ? 
Remember, she bore up to-day contrary to her feelings. 
To-night she has been weeping. (Crossing to window.) 
Look in here, Ned, and you can see her. 

Ned (without moving) . I have seen her. 

Gipsy. Did the sight not move your heart ? 

Ned (crossing to her). Gip, don't talk of such things. 
I am not here to repent — far from it. What I wish to say 
relates directly to yourself; and even in that I must be brief. 

Gipsy. Then a mother's tears, and the supplications of a 
sweetheart will not swerve you from your purpose ? 

Ned. No — no ; I am firm in my resolve as the pyramids 
of Egypt. I cannot be moved or shaken. Now let us drop 
this subject, and speak of yourself. Tell me truly that you 
love me, and will adhere to me through thick and thin. 



22 PLACER GOLD. 

Gipsy (very slowly~). Oh, I couldn't do that, Ned. 

Ned. What ! don't you love me ? 

Gipsy. O yes ; but — but I'm not adhesive, you know. 

Ned. Gip, stop this joking. If you cannot talk to me as 
I desire, give me a kiss, and I will be off. 

Gipsy. No. 

Ned (releasing her hands') . ' ' No ? " Do you mean it, 
Gip? 

Gipsy. I do. I am firm in my resolve as — as Gibraltar. 
I cannot be moved or shaken. Let us — 

Ned. Very well. (Moving off.) I shall not force you 
against your will. Some one approaches, so farewell. 
( Waves his hand and moves off L. ) 

Gipsy (running after him). Oh, Ned! Ned! I don't 
mean it, indeed I don't ! (Catches him by lapel of coat and 
tries to pull him back.) Come back, please do. 

Ned (resisting). Too late. They are already in the 
door. Let me go. Quick! (Trying to release himself ) 

Gipsy (holding on to coat) . No — no ; I won't — I 
won't — 

Ned. You must, Gip. (Wrenches away. Tail to coat 
tears off.) There! now farewell. (Disappears l. i e.) 

Gipsy (almost crying). Oh, Ned, you are cruel. Gone 
without a kiss, and all through my own fault. (Looking at 
tail to coat.) Well, I've got so much to remember him by, 
and I'll keep it, too. (Puts it into her pocket.) 

Uncle N. (emerging through doorway followed by Mrs. 
Bardwell) . W-w-what is it you've got, Gipsy ? 

Gipsy (sneezing). A cold, Uncle Nathan; and if you 
remain in this night air, you'll catch one, too. 

Mrs. B. Gipsy, you have been talking with my boy. 
Oh, tell me that he has returned ? 

Gipsy. Yes, he returned ; but he has gone again. He 
left me this to remember him by. Look ! Uncle Nathan. 
(Shows remnant of coat.) 

Uncle N. Wa'all, it's as much as I expected, an 1 — an' 
a leetle more. 

Mrs. B. Is it possible, Gipsy, that my boy is deserting 
his home ? 

Gipsy. It looks like it. I found him here with bag and 
baggage. I did my best to dissuade him, but all to no 



PLACER GOLD. 23 

purpose. He was determined to go, and go he did. You 
noticed this ? {Showing cloth.) Well, I tore it off while 
trying to hold him back. 

Mrs. B. Oh, Nathan, you were too hasty in your repri- 
mand. You must have given away to your temper. Are 
you sure this was not the case ? 

Uncle N. Maria, I am careful of my temper. B-blast 
it ! I haven't got any temper. The boy was impudent — 
impudent, I say, an 1 I turned him out of the house. 

Mrs. B. But you know, Nathan, you get excited too 
easily. Had you been gentle with him this would not have 
happened. 

Uncle N. {growing excited). B-b-blast it! I was gentle 
— gentle as a lamb, I tell ye. I told him ter get out of the 
house; an' an' — an 1 if he didn't, I would kick him out. 
That's what I told him, Maria. 

Mrs. B. But that was not the proper language to use. 

Uncle N. W-w-wasn't it the proper language ? Dog 
rot it ! didn't he call me an old fool — me, his father. 
Didn't he, I say ? Is that the language for a child ter use 
ter a parent ? A-a-anything honorable about it ? Anything 
in the commandments that sanctions sech language ? 

Mrs. B. But what did you say ? You must have irri- 
tated him somehow ? 

Uncle N. S'posin' I did — s'posin' I did! Didn't he 
desarve it ? Er — er — hasn't he been devilin' round in bad 
company ? Haven't I cotched him drinkin' ? Don't he 
neglect his duty ? Anything about sech conduct ter be 
proud of ? Anything ter m ike me humble, an' linient, an 
forget my sense o' duty ? 

Mrs. B. Your duty, Nathan, I do not question. Your 
mode of performing it I cannot sanction. That boy cannot 
be driven no more than yourself. You have undertaken it, 
and now you can see the result. 

Uncle N. Look a-here, Maria, that boy is old enough 
ter know better. Do you sense it, Maria ? Now — now 
have I got to lead him around with a string as you would a 
bear, an' teach him his actions ? Out upon sech nonsense, 
Maria ! He knows his duty, an' if he can't abide by it, let 
him go. Let him go, I say. 

Gipsy. Uncle Nathan, he is sorry for his conduct, for he 



24 PLACER GOLD. 

told me so himself. The trouble is, he is too proud to 
return. 

Uncle N. Too proud, is he ? Done wrong, an' — an 1 
ashamed ter own it. Blast it ! no man should be too proud 
ter acknowledge a fault. When he becomes sorry, hell 
come back. Don't you fret about that — he'll come back. 

Gipsy. Would you welcome him if he should ? 

Uncle N. Would I ? Why, Lord bless ye, Gip, I'd 
welcome him with open arms. Don't I love that boy ? I — I 

— reckon I do. That's no reason, though, that I should make 
a fool of him ? No reason that I should let him twist me 
around his finger — no reason at all. 

Mrs. B. Don't you think it your duty to see him and 
persuade him to return ? 

Gipsy. Oh, do, Uncle Nathan. 

Uncle N. {excited). M-Maria, you've said enough. 
You — you've all said enough. Blast it ! do you want me to 
make a fool of myself ? Ask him ter come back ? I — I — 
I'll see him him hanged fust. I'll see him in Halifax. 
{Crosses to block c. l. and sits down.) You've said enough 

— enough, I say. 

Mrs. B. But, Nathan — 

Uncle N. H-h-hold on, now, I won't hear another word 

— not a word. I won't be apron-stringed, I tell ye. 
Enough of a thing is enough whether you like it or not. 
Let me alone. 

Gipsy (dryly). I guess if the weather holds we shall 
have a storm. Don't you, Mrs. Bardwell ? (Laughter 
within.) Hello! here comes the crowd. Now, Uncle 
Nathan, if we don't have you laughing inside of five minutes 
then Gipsy is no prophet. (Mrs. Bardwell seats herself. 
r. c. Gipsy c.) 

(Enter Mike, Joe, Ouincy, Nellie, Matilda and others 
from house.) 

Mike. Now that we've rousted the new bride, and feasted, 
and imptied the ould gintleman's cider jug, I feel loike takin' 
a quiet departure. (To Gipsy.) How is it with yourself, 
acushla ? 

Gipsy. Well, if you've got all there is in the house, I 
might second the motion. 

Matilda. If he didn't it was his own fault. 



PLACER GOLD. 2$ 

Joe. Bejabers, he hunted hard enough. 

Mike. Och ! didn't I lave you the jug that contained the 
cider ? 

Joe. Shure and that was all you did lave, for there was 
no cider in it. 

Mike. Arrah ! did yeez iver see the jug that was capable 
ov leaping full ? Show me the loiks, and Til own it, handle 
and all, if I have to stale it. 

Quincy. Look here, my friends, don't think to get off so 
easily. You have made merry within, now make merry 
without, and wake up the birds, and let them know that this 
is a night of rejoicing. 

All {together} . A song ! a song ! a song ! 

Joe. Yis, sing the Doxology. 

Gipsy (runs to Uncle N. and throws her arms around 
his neck) . Can I see a smile on your face in the moonlight ? 
You are not angry now, are you ? 

Uncle N. I — I'm thawin', I guess. Lord bless ye, 
how can a man keep angry with so much sunshine around 
him. 

Gipsy. Moonlight, Uncle Nathan. 

Uncle N. H-h-hey ? Wa'all, what's the difference 
when you don't know it ? 

Gipsy. Will you sing, Uncle Nathan ? 

Uncle N. I'll sing at it — I'll sing at it, Gip. Lord 
bless ye, I'd stand on my head ter please ye. (All cheer, 
and call for Uncle Nathan.) Wa'all if I must, I — I 
s'pose I must. So here goes, as the boy said when he slid 
off from the roof. 

SONG. — " Voices of the Farm:" 
(This is less a song than a recitation, having been chanted or 
intoned by the original performer to a tune and rhythm of 
his own with great effect. ) 

Ho ! fair Ceres, ho ! 

' Tis early morn and the day is fair ; 
Up from the valley fog is lifting. 

" Drive those cattle from cornfield, there ! " 
" Sic 'em, Tige !" on the air comes drifting. 
Tin-pails, cowbells, and tools keep a-clattering. 
Whang ! in the distance goes a gun. 
All such sounds of manual labor 

Show quite plainly, day has begun. 
Ho ! Joseph Murphy, limber up your fiddle ! 



26 PLACER GOLD. 

Let us make the old welkin ring ! 
The birds, and beasts, and the little insects 

All will delight to dance and sing. 
Stand upon a hilltop, on a summer morning, 

Not one sound will your quick ears miss, 
Lowing of the cattle, cooing of the house-dove, 

And in the distance such sounds as this : 
Ker-dake ! ker-dake ! ker-dake ! ker-dake ! ker-dake ! ker-dake ! 
Such sounds as these will the senses thrill 

On a summer morning, calm and still. 

Ho ! fair Ceres, ho ! 

The hour is noon, and the sun is high ; 
Grass in the wind gently waving. 

Swallows chitter in a cloudless sky — 
Quack ! go the ducks in waters laving. 
Turkeys, and geese, and hens keep a chattering — 
Down in the barn a rooster crows ; 
Here that juvenile wind-mill turning 

Rattle-te-bang ! in the wind that blows. 
Hark to that sound — oh ! that heavenly music ! 
What can thrill like a dinner horn ! 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! the echoes answer, 
Out from the fields of grain and corn. 
Stand upon a hill top, on a summer noon-day, 

Not one sound will your quick ears miss; 
Going home from labor, driving yokes of oxen, 

And the words you hear will sound like this : 
Gee — gee off there, Buck ! Haw! Whoa-hish! whoa-hish! — Star- 
line! 
Such sounds as these will the senses thrill 
On a summer noon-day calm and still. 

Ho ! fair Ceres, ho ! 

The day is done, and the sun is set ; 
Dew on the grass is softly falling. 

Cow-bells tinkle in the distant lot — 
Crows to their mates are harshly calling. 
Crickets in the grass keep cherruping, cherruping. 
Hark ! in the swamp the night-birds sing. 
Whip-poor-will, cat-bird, thrush and sparrow — 
Whir-r-r ! goes a shooting night-hawk's wing. 
Ho ! father long-legs ! seated on a thistle ! 

Hear his legs on his silk wings grind! 
The toads, and the frogs, are wierdly croaking — 
All kind of noises seem combined. 
Stand upon a hill-top, on a summer evening, 

Not one sound will your quick ears miss ; 
Barking of the house-dog, rustle of a leaflet, 

And from the pasture such sounds as this : 
Co-boss ! co-boss ! co-boss ! co-boss ! co-boss ! co-boss ! 
Such sounds as these will the senses thrill 
On a summer evening, calm and still. 

( When he has finished, all shout : ' ' Hurrah for Uncle 
Nathan ! " Uncle Nathan crosses l.) 
Mike. Begorra ! the whole farm was worked into that 
conglomeration but jest the ould oaken bucket and the cat. 
Thim two articles was left out entoirly. 



PLACER GOLD. 2*J 

Joe. And one other thing. 

Mike. Indade ! would yeez be afther explaining what ? 

Joe. Mike O'Connor, Crosby's hired man. 

Mike. Arrah ! yeez are correct, me boy. And the omis- 
sion of the same is where the piece lost one of its strongest 
faytures. But, whist ! now I think ov it, there's another 
omission av far more consequence thin the other. 

Gipsy. Now, Mike, it is my time to ask what. 

Mike. An ould toime counthry dance in the dooryard. 
The ould gintleman couldn't sing it, an' in order to make 
the thing complayte, and tarminate the night in proper 
shape, begorra ! I motion we act it. 

( Cries of ' * Yes I yes ! — Hurrah ! hurrah ! — Virginia 
Reel!" etc.) 

Quincy. Nothing could suit me better. Come ! let us 
form on. Nellie and I will take the lead. {They form o?i.) 

Gipsy (crossing to Mike who is down R. i e.). Come, 
Mike, have I got to ask you to be my partner ? 

Mike. Well, the gintleman who waits for an invitation is 
niver in danger ov being refused. I'm wid you, acushla. 

Matilda (stepping in front and taking Mike away) . 
Well, I guess not. 

Gipsy {laughing'). Good-by, Michael. Come, Joe, I'll 
take you. 

Quincy {after all are formed on) . All ready. Commence! 
{Music, dance.) 
(Uncle Nathan beco?nes excited as the dance progresses, 

and beats time to the music. At last he dances over to 

Mrs. Bardwell who is seated R. c. back.) 

Uncle N. Maria! I — I can't stand it! Come! let us 
dance . ( Catches hold of her. ) 

Mrs. B. Oh, Nathan ! I don't feel like dancing. 

Uncle N. But — but you must, Maria. Lord bless ye, 
I'm young again clean ter the back bone. Come ! come 
along. (He pulls her into set. All dance, during which 
curtain falls.) 

(Eleven years supposed to have elapsed between the first and 
second acts.) 



28 PLACER GOLD. 



ACT II. 



SCENE I. — Nathan BardweWs dooryard, same as in Act 
/., Scene J. As curtain rises, Uncle Nathan and 
Belle are discovered seated on a be?ich r. c, under tree. 
Nathan is much older in appearance, and goes with cane. 
Time — morning. 

Uncle N. {relating story). Now the collier lived in a 
cottage that was haunted by a terrible specter. This specter 
hated wicked people, an 1 — an' when they wus around him, 
he used ter grow till he looked like a great big giant ; but if 
the people around him wus good, he used ter shrink until he 
warn't no bigger nor nuthin'. 

Belle. Was he a great big giant when the man lived in 
the cottage ? 

Uncle N. Yes ; for the man who lived there before him 
was wicked. This made the specter so large that he drove 
the man away. But the collier was good, ye see, an' — an' 
so the specter shrunk, an' shrunk, until he warn't no bigger 
nor you are ; an' he shrunk, an' shrunk, until he warn't no 
bigger nor a pea ; an' at last he shrunk away altogether. 

Belle. And did he ever come back ? 

Uncle N. No ; he couldn't, ye see, for the collier was 
good. But he left his presence there, in the shape of a 
gentle light, an 1 — an' sweet strains of music, that wus soft 
an 1 low, an' pleasant ter hear. This made the old collier so 
happy, that he used to call this presence his " house spirit." 

Belle. Do you have such a spirit, grandpa ? 

Uncle N. I — I cakerlate that everybody who is good 
has sech a spirit, Belle. 

Belle. Was you always good, grandpa ? 

Uncle N. Wa'all, I — I try ter be, Belle, I try ter be. 
I may fall short once in a while ; but I try ter be good. 
Haven't I been good ter you, Belle ? 

Belle. Oh, yes, indeed you have; and you love me, 
too, don't you ? 

Uncle N. Yes, Belle ; I've loved ye for ten years, goin' 
on. You see, ,Quincy, your father, is dead, an' — an' your 
mother is dead,, so I haven't any other children but you to 
love. 



PLACER GOLD. 29 

Belle. You have Uncle Ned ? 

Uncle N. Nuthin' certain about him, Belle, nuthin 1 
certain at all. He may be alive, or he may be dead, the 
Lord only knows. I know I still pray for him, an 1 if there's 
any vartue in prayer, hell come back sometime, Belle — he'll 
come back sometime. 

Belle. Grandma don't think he will ; but Gipsy does. 

Uncle N. Yes ; Gipsy still looks for him. Lord bless 
ye, I guess she does. But he don't desarve her — don't 
desarve her in the least. There ! run in now, while I talk 
with Mike. I see him coming up the walk, an' it may be 
Crosby that sent him. 

Belle {jumping tip and throwing her ar?ns aroimd his 
neck). I don't like Grandpa Crosby one bit. He is cross 
and says hateful things to me, and once he boxed my ears 
and called me a brat. You don't do that, do you ? Now 
let me kiss you. (Kisses him ^ then ?-uns to door.) Good- 
by, grandpa. (Throws kiss at him, then runs into house.) 

Uncle N. (laughing). Lord bless her! Wa'all, if a 
purson ain't appreciated in this world, it's purty apt ter be 
his own fault — his own fault. (Enter Mike, c.) Good 
mornin', Mike. 

Mike. Mornin' to yourself, your honor, and to the house. 
May I ask if your riverence is in comfortable health ? 

Uncle N. Nuthin' ter brag on, Mike, nuthin' ter brag 
on. Er — er — is Crosby purty well ? 

Mike. Is he well ? Begorra ! he's ugly as the divil, and 
twice as disagreeable. Loike a thistle, the older he grows 
the more he shows his bad points ; an' he has enough ov 
'em, I kin tell yeez. 

Uncle N. Soured — soured, I guess; an' the loss of his 
darter don't sweeten him any. H-hard on Gip, though, 
mighty hard. 

Mike. Och ! niver yeez fear for Gip. It's a fire she has 
in her eye, an' a tornado in her bosom, an' when she 
becomes angry, by the Holy St. Patrick ! the ould gintleman 
has to dance to her fiddling, or may I turn into a ghost. 
Don't yeez have no fears for Gip. 

Uncle N. It maybe — it maybe. She can hold her 
own, I guess; an' — an' you seem to. 

Mike. Oh, yiss, your honor; I'm tough. I'm loike an 



30 PLACER GOLD. 

ould iron target. I've been battered so much that I have no 
scars, and don't moind being shot at. Shtill, and it's 
mesilf that's ashamed to own it, I am battered in a direction 
that makes me wilt complaytely. 

Uncle N. H-hey ? Battered in another direction ? 

Mike. Yiss, your rivirence, and badly, too. Be aisy 
now, and I'll be afther giving yeez a bit ov advice. If yeez 
iver become single, don't marry a girl in her 'teens, or out 
ov your own nationality. Begorra ! if ye do, yeez will wish 
ye had niver made the mistake ov being born. I do already. 

Uncle N. W-w- what's that ! Your marriage with Ma- 
tilda a failure ? I didn't mistrust it. 

Mike. Arrah ! it's because yeez are not posted. I thry 
to kape up appearances ; but it's moity hard work, I kin tell 
yeez. The shmile on a man's face is often a mantle to the 
frown that rankles in his bosom ; an' — I apply that to me 
own case. Now this gold excitement — . Och ! and have 
yeez heard about thim foinding gold in Rocky Run ? 

Uncle N. {excited). W- w- what's that ! Gold in Rocky 
Run ? Gold in my pasture ? 

Mike. The identical same, your honor. The whole ov 
New England has got the gold faver worse thin Californy, 
and ivery mither's son is out wid a tin pan a-washin' for it. 
Well, last week, two men what they call pros — pec — tus, 
sthruck the color over in Crosby's lot, and yisterday they 
made a big foind in the sthream that crosses your own land. 

Uncle N. Y-y-you don't mean it! you don't mean it! 
By John Rogers ! you don't mean it ! 

Mike. Arrah ! it's a fact, your honor. I saw it wid my 
own two blissed eyes, in the bottle where they kept it 
secrayted. 

Uncle N. A-a-and it wus gold — real gold ? 

Mike. It was that, and as bright as a dandelion blossom. 
They will be afther calling upon ye to-day ; an 1 it's meself 
would loike Joe to help sarch the shtream more complaytely, 
if yeez don't moind sparing him for the toime being. 

Uncle N. You kin have him — you kin have him. 
D-d-drat it ! kin they have found gold on my land ? I — I 
— I can't believe it. 

Mike. Well, I heard thim say it, your honor, and thin 
there was the samples in the bottle. But I've got oft" from 



PLACER GOLD. 3 1 

me subject entoirly. This gold excitement, as I started to 
say, raised the divil with Matilda complaytely. Nothing 
would do but I must dig the whole counthry over, and all 
for a mine, that — begorra ! kin only exist in her own divil- 
ish imagination. 

Uncle N. A-a-and have you ever found any gold, 
Michael ? 

Mike. Niver a speck, your honor. Shure it's meself 
wishes I had in order to kape pace in the family. For now 
it's "Moike" here, and " Moike" there and "Moike, I must 
have money," and " Moike, if yeez was as smart as other 
men," and — Begorra! here she comes now. Look at her! 
{Points off c.) Every dollar I kin rake an' shcrape put 
upon her back to make her look foine. {Goes l. i e.) 
Och ! but I shall cotch it now. 

Matilda {enters c, whistling. Perceives Mike). Yo # u 
here, are you ? Didn't I tell you I must have ten dollars ? 
Is this the way you are trying to earn it ? 

Mike. Shure I intend — 

Matilda. Intend! intend! you always intend. {To 
Nathan.) Oh, Mr. Bardwell ! he's the laziest good for 
nothing you ever saw. 

Uncle N. Wa'all — er — er — I've known him — 

Matilda. Yes, you've known him ; but you don't know 
his peculiarities as I do. Why, he makes a perfect drudge 
of me. I actually have had to wash my own dishes for the 
past six weeks. 

Mike. Begorra ! yeez have kept me digging for gold — 

Matilda. Shut up ! I will do the talking myself. If 
you've been digging for gold, where is it ? Show me a 
sample ? Other men find gold, and give it to their wives. 
Where is yours ? 

Mike. Shure I — 

Matilda. Oh, don't go to making excuses. I know 
the reason — you don't try. Other men hunt for it while 
you lie around in the sun and doze. That's all your good 
for. Mr. Bardwell, what would you do with such a lazy lout 
of a husband if you were in my place ? 

Uncle N. B-b-by John Rogers! I'd respect him. I — 
I — 

Matilda. Respect him ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! respect such a 



32 PLACER GOLD. 

thing as he is. Just look at him, now. {Goes L. Takes 
Mike by the ear and leads him front.') Isn't he a picture in 
a frame ? Look at that attitude ? Isn't it graceful ? 
{Throwing him off.} Oh, you wretch! IVe no patience 
with you. 

Uncle N. {getting angry'). B-blast it ! man, assert your 
rights — assert your rights ! 

Mike. Shure I — 

Matilda {stamping her f Oof). Don't you speak. Ha! 
ha ! ha ! assert his rights ! I should just like to have him 
try it. Just let him try it. 

Mike. Jhust one word if you plaze — 

Matilda. Shut up! I tell you. Start your boots to 
work. What are you doing here anyway ? 

Mike. Afther Joe, mam. 
• Matilda. A pretty excuse. ( Points off c. ) You 
march ! do you hear ? 

Mike {going). Yiss — yiss, mam. I'm traveling. {Goes 
offc.) 

Matilda. I'll settle with you when we arrive at the 
house. Oh, Mr. Bardwell, he tries me so, I have no 
patience with him. Sometimes I wish I might die, and then 
I should be at peace. {Exit c, scolding.) 

Uncle N. {to himself excitedly). I — I should want you 
to — I should want you to. B-blast it! if you was my wife, 
I — I — I — I — Well, I wouldn't have sech a wife — I 
wouldn't have sech a wife. {Calling.) Maria! Maria! 

Mrs. B. {opening door) . Well, Nathan. 

Uncle N. They've struck gold in Rocky Run. What 
d'yer think of it ! What d'yer think of it, Maria ? 

Mrs. B. Don't be deceived, Nathan. My advice is to 
be careful. 

Uncle N. Oh, I — I'll be careful. Can't see no harm, 
in findin' gold, blest if I can. W-w-why, if reports are true, 
they are findin' it all around us — all around us, Maria. 

Mrs. B. The reports may be exaggerated. 

Uncle N. They may be. It's best ter be careful — I 
admit that ; but if there's gold in the gulch, we are rich, 
Maria, rich as Jews. 

Mrs. B. I am contented as it is. Don't get excited, 
Nathan, until you have some reason. 



PLACER GOLD. 33 

Uncle N. No ; Fll be calm. B-b-blast it ! I'm always 
calm, Maria. But the gold — er — er — Mike has seen it — 
seen it in the bottle. 

Mrs. B. Well, let us wait for the result. {Looking off 
C.) Crosby and two strangers are coming up the lane. 
You know how that man figures for your farm, so don't get 
caught in any scheme. 

Uncle N. Oh, Til be careful, I tell ye. Don't be 
afeared. I'll handle 'em as I would a pair o' hot tongs — 
hot tongs, Maria. 

Mrs. B. If you will, we shall have nothing to fear. 
{Exit into hoiise.) 

{Enter Crosby, Mayhew and Blynn, c.) 

Crosby {rubbing his hands). Good morning, Nathan. 
Allow me to introduce Charles Mayhew and Richard Blynn, 
assayers and prospectors. Gentlemen, Mr. Nathan Bardwell. 
{All bow, etc.) 

Blynn. Happy to meet you, Mr. Bardwell. 

Mayhew. Which pleasure also affords gratification to 
myself. 

Uncle N. {suspiciously) . I — I — I suppose so — I 
suppose so. Er — er — help yourselves ter some seats, 
gentlemen. {All seat themselves but Crosby.) 

Blynn. I have the pleasure, Mr. Bardwell, of informing 
you of the discovery of placer gold in Rocky Run, as well as 
some rare specimens taken from the adjacent rocks ; nearly 
all of which, as Mr. Crosby informs me, were found within 
the precincts of your own land. 

Crosby {rubbing his hands together). Gold, Nathan, 
gold. Rich, red and radiant gold. There it lies, sparkling 
among the pebbles of the brook; your brook and mine, 
Nathan. There it lies, hidden away, waiting for eager hands 
to gather in. Think of it, Nathan. 

Blynn. We have samples with us just as they were 
taken from the brook. From indications, there must be a 
rich pocket, or deposit, somewhere in the immediate vicinity. 
We are certain of this, though the locality has not quite 
been determined. 

Crosby. Show him the gold. Show him the samples in 
the bottle. (Mayhew hands bottle of samples to Nathan.) 
Look at it, Nathan. How it glimmers, glitters, sparkles in 



34 PLACER GOLD. 

the sun ! How radiant, beautiful it looks ! Ha ! don't it 
make you feel young again ? Don't it make your fingers 
tingle and your heart burn ? It is yours — yours, Nathan. 
The samples were found on your land, and are yours. 

Mayhew. So far as I can learn, we have made the 
richest find in New England. Of course this is confidential. 
The samples already found, at a rough estimate, are worth, 
at least, two hundred dollars. 

Uncle N. Y-y-you don't mean it ! you don't mean it ! 

Crosby. We do, Nathan ; and all of it, every mill, and 
fractional part of a mill belongs to you. 

Blynn. Recollecting, of course, that we claim a nominal 
per cent as the discoverers. 

Uncle N. B-b-by John Rogers ! if you've found gold on 
my land, you shall be paid for it — well paid for it, I say. 

Crosby. I told them so. I knew you would do your 
duty by them. It's worth remunerating — eh ! Nathan ? 

Mayhew. It is not so much the remuneration we ask for, 
as it is to come to some understanding. Of course our 
proposition would be, to purchase the land outright. This, 
Mr. Crosby informs me, cannot be done. 

Uncle N. No sir — no sir. You couldn't buy my farm 
if you should kiver every foot of it with bank bills. It's a 
home farm, sir. A farm on which I was born, an' on which 
the father afore me was born. I love the old farm, sir ; an' 
— an' I intend ter keep it. 

Crosby. I told them so, Nathan. 

Blynn. Realizing this fact, Mr. Mayhew and myself 
have come before you with a proposition. We are confident 
that a rich deposit of gold is hidden in Rocky Run. We 
have proof of this from the samples in the bottle. Now — 

Uncle N. The proposition — give me the proposition. 

Blynn. Mr. Mayhew, repeat the proposition as ar- 
ranged between ourselves. 

Mayhew. It is this. You and Mr. Crosby advance five 
thousand dollars, and Mr. Blynn and myself will put in the 
proper machinery, and work the claim for twenty per cent of 
the gross receipts. The agreement is already drawn up, and 
to which Mr. Crosby has affixed his signature. Understand 
me, we make this extraordinary offer on account of our 
inability to purchase the land. Were this possible, and with 



PLACER GOLD. 35 

our confidence in the richness of the find, we would prefer to 
pay for all rights and privileges and work the claim on our 
own responsibility. 

Uncle N. But, Lord bless ye, w-w-where's the money ? 
Kin I perform a miricle like the prophets ? I haven't a 
dollar in cash ter my name. 

Crosby. I'll advance the money, Nathan. 

Uncle N. W-w- what's that ter me ? What's that ter 
me ? 

Crosby. Ahem! I'll explain. {Takes papers from his 
pocket. ) Here are documents — legal documents — docu- 
ments officially made out and witnessed. Here is the agree- 
ment with my name attached. Read it, Nathan. {Hands 
him agreement.} Here is another document — a note — 
payable in one year. {Hands him note.} Affix your name 
to that, and I'll advance the money, Nathan. 

Uncle N. Where's your security ? Y-y-you want secur- 
ity, don't ye ? 

Crosby. Oh, the farm will be the security. It is one of the 
conditions of the note. See ? Sign the note, Nathan, and 
I'll risk the security. 

Uncle N. {throwing him back the papers'). N-n-no — 
no. I'll not do it. By John Rogers ! I'll not do it. I've 
been there before. I'll see you hanged fust ! I'll not do it, 
I say. 

Blynn. My dear sir, do you imagine that you are 
assuming a risk ? 

Uncle N. Don't I risk my farm ? D-d-don't I risk it, I 
say ? 

Crosby. But the gold, Nathan. Ah ! think of the gold. 

Uncle N. D-d-dog gone it ! how do I know there is any 
gold ! Have I seen it dug ? Have I any proofs of it 
beyond your own words ? 

Mayhew. Mr. Bardwell is right. You, Mr. Crosby, 
have looked the matter over. He must do the same. 
First, what is the private value of your farm ? 

Uncle N. I don't value it, sir ; it's beyond value. 

Crosby. The appraisal is five thousand dollars. I have 
offered him seven within a year. 

Mayhew. Very good. So confident am I of a fortune in 
Rocky Run, that, if you will deed me your farm, with all 



7,6 PLACER GOLD. 

rights and privileges, I will pay you ten thousand dollars 
for it before the sun shall set. 

Uncle N. (jumping up, excited) . W-w-what ! Ten 
thousand dollars for my farm ! You kin have it ! (Recollect- 
ing hii7is elf *.) N-n-n-n-;/<? — no — NO. You can't have it 
for twice ten and ten on top of that. {Sinks upon bench.) 
(Gipsy heard singing off c. Crosby and others show sur- 
prise.) 

Crosby (aside) . Curses light on that hussey ! is she 
coming here to spoil my scheme. ( Walking toward cA 

Gipsy (singing outside) . Tra-la ! tra-la ! — tra-la-la-la ! 
tra-la-la-la-la-la ! (Enters c. Perceives Crosby and the 
others.) La-a-a-a-an! O my! (Goes L. I E., dragging 
her hat behind her. Blynn and Mayhew bow and retire 
r. i e. Crosby follows Gipsy l. i e.) 

Crosby (hissing in her ear) . What are you here for — 
eh? 

Gipsy (carelessly). To bother you, I guess. Ha! ha! 
it seems to, don't it ? (Crossing to Nathan.) Good 
morning, Uncle Nathan. You didn't notice me, I guess. 

Uncle N. Yes, yes, I noticed you — I noticed you; but 
I wus mixed up, Gipsy. I shall be all right in a minute. 
(Crosby keeps talking and gesticidating to Gipsy l. i e., 
while Blynn and Mayhew are talking. ) 

Blynn (aside to Mayhew r. i e.). Mayhew, something 
about that girl troubles me. It did yesterday when I talked 
with her. A look, or something that relates to the past. 

Mayhew. Perhaps you are captivated, like myself. Say ! 
you transact the business and let me attend to the girl. 

Blynn. Very well. Let us make another start, and then 
I'll excuse you. 

(They cross to Nathan and engage him in conversation.) 

Gipsy (l. i e.). Look here, Father Crosby, you can 
gesticulate and threaten all you want to ; you can't frighten 
me one bit. I'm here to stay, and stay I'm going to. 

Crosby. Ha ! is this your obedience ? You, a brat 
whom I picked out of the gutter ? Do I not feed and 
clothe you ? 

Gipsy. Yes, and abuse me, too ; but I'm used to it. I 
work for you, and obey you in every thing practical ; but 



PLACER GOLD. 37 

when it comes to a dishonest action, Til fight against it with 
my last breath. 

Crosby. Who is performing a dishonest action ? 

Gipsy. You are ; at least, I mistrust it. 

Crosby. You mistrust it. Ha ! is that all ? 

Gipsy. Well, if your business is honorable, why do you 
object to my presence ? 

Crosby. You have no business here. Remain, though, 
and listen like a woman at a keyhole, if you want to. Don't 
you interfere — remember that. Keep your mouth shut. 
{Crosses to Nathan.) 

Gipsy {aside). Ha! ha! ha! IVe lived through that. 
Well, I'm getting so I can stand 'most anything. (Mayhew 
approaches.) Yes, and now IVe got to stand being mashed. 

Mayhew {approaching and bowing) . Fortune favors me 
in again meeting you, and renewing our conversation of 
yesterday. 

Gipsy. Yes, but I can't speak. 

Mayhew. You can't speak ? 

Gipsy. No ; Father Crosby told me to keep my mouth 
shut. 

Mayhew {laughing). In some cases it is prudent. In 
this instance, however I think you will be excusable. 
Indeed ! your lips are too pretty to remain hermetically 
sealed. 

Gipsy {starting) . O my ! 

Mayhew. W-what's the matter ? 

Gipsy. Oh, nothing. Your confession startled me. It 
took away my breath. A girl in the country, you know, is 
not used to flattery; and — and it makes me feel so funny. 
Do you know, to pay you, I've a good mind to give my 
lips — 

Mayhew {grasping her hand) . Oh, do — do. 

Gipsy {as if surprised). Do what ! 

Mayhew {embarrassed) . Why — that is — er — I mean, 
you spoke of giving your lips — 

Gipsy. Oh, yes. Ha ! ha ! ha ! giving my lips a rest. 
Don't you think it policy, Mr. Mayhew ? There ! now think 
of it, I will rest myself. {Sits on bench l. i e., and taking 
pains to occupy the whole seat.) Won't you please be seated, 
Mr. Mayhew ? 



38 PLACER GOLD. 

Mayhew (observing no seat to occupy). No, thanks; I 
— I — that is — I prefer standing, I think. (Aside.) Con- 
found the girl ! 

Gipsy. There ! how stupid. A girl in the country is so 
green. You must put up with my awkwardness, Mr. 
Mayhew ; but really, I did not observe but what chairs were 
plenty. 

Mayhew. Don't mention it, please. 

Gipsy. Then I won't. You might occupy the end of 
this bench, I suppose. (Moving along and showing very 
small portion of seat.) Will that do, Mr. Mayhew ? 

Mayhew. I fear I should crowd you. (Aside.) Blest 
if I don't think the girl is poking fun at me. 

Gipsy. Ha! ha! ha! I declare, you might. I didn't 
think of that. I tell you, lean against the pump. (Jumping 
up.) By the way, will you draw me a glass of water, 
please ? 

Mayhew. With pleasure. (Business at pump.) 

Belle (appearing in doorway with Mrs. Bardwell). 
Oh, there is Gipsy. (Running to Gipsy.) O Gipsy! I am 
awful glad to see you. 

Mrs. B. Belle, you mustn't say " awful," it isn't pretty. 

Belle. Well, I won't say it again ; but I was awful glad, 
wasn't I, Gipsy? 

Gipsy (kissing her). Bless your little heart, I guess 
you was. (Business between Gipsy, Mayhew, and Belle 
at the pump.) 

Uncle N. M-Maria, come here. Here are the samples 
of gold. Look at 'em, Maria ; an'-an' at these papers at the 
same time. (Hands her the bottle of samples and the 
papers.) Now they've made me an offer; an offer of ten 
thousand dollars for the farm. What d'yer think of it? 
W-what d'yer think of it, Maria? 

Gipsy (offering glass of water to Mayhew, who is listening 
to Nathan ; loudly) . Take it ! 

Mayhew. Oh, beg pardon. (Takes glass.) 

Crosby (turning upon her fiercely) . Hush ! you minx, 
hush. (Gipsy turns her back upon him). 

Mrs. B. Would it not be better to take that amount, 
Nathan, than to run the risk of signing these papers ? 

Uncle N. I won't sell the farm, Maria, It's our home. 



PLACER GOLD. 39 

A shelter ter us in our old age. It's the place where I wus 
born ; an' I'm goin' ter stick to it if the gold mine in Rocky 
Run lies buried until etarnity. 

Blynn. Knowing this, Mrs. Bardwell, we make the offer, 
the conditions of which are upon that paper. 

Mrs. B. And which, if he signs, will endanger his 
farm. 

Blynn. Mrs. Bardwell, a fortune lies buried under 
Rocky Run. My knowledge of this led me to make my ex- 
travagant offer for the place. The same knowledge also 
leads me to make the other proposition. 

Mrs. B. If you are so positive of this, why do you not, 
with our consent, work the claim on your own responsibility ? 
We will take the per cent, and let you assume the risk. 

Uncle N. Th-th-that's it, Maria ! That's it exactly ! 

Crosby. It isn't policy, Mrs. Bardwell. The gold is on 
my land as well as Nathan's. We own it together. It is 
ours. Give them the per cent. — eh ! why not? 

Mrs. B. But what positive proof have we that the treas- 
ure is such as you claim ? 

Blynn. First, in the samples. Second, in our willing- 
ness to purchase the farm. Lastly, we ask him to sign no 
papers until he has investigated for himself. 

Uncle N. That's fair — that's fair, Maria. Nuthin' 
could be fairer than that. 

Crosby. I assume the same risk, Mrs. Bardwell, as your 
husband. Two thousand five hundred, the same as he 
does. 

Blynn. Shall we set to-morrow at ten o'clock as the hour 
to meet in Rocky Run? 

Uncle N. Yes — yes, I'll be there. I'll look the matter 
over. I'll be there at ten o'clock. 

Gipsy (to Mayhew who jokingly threatens to sprinkle her 
with water from the tumbler ; loudly). Don't you do it. 

Mayhew. Beg pardon, I won't. (Turns water into 
well. ) 

Crosby (turning upon her fiercely) . Hush ! you minx, 
hush! 

Blynn. And if everything is proven to your satisfaction 
you will sign the agreement? 

Uncle N. (slowly rising to his feet) . I-I-I'li see the gold 



40 PLACER GOLD. 

fust. I'll — see — the — gold — fust. If I kin see it dug — dug 
right out o 1 the sand, right out o' the rocks — w-w-why, I'll 
see, I'll see then. 

Gipsy (quickly turning from pump) . Uncle Nathan ! 
Crosby steps in front of her and motions her back.) I want 
to speak to Uncle Nathan, and I'm going to. (Pushing 
Crosby aside.) 

Uncle N. Wa'all, Gipsy, what is it? What is it? 

Gipsy. Do you really love the old farm as you pretend ? 

Uncle N. Do I love the old farm? Lord bless ye 
child, haven't I said a thousand times that it ud break my 
heart ter lose it? That next ter my own family, an' — an' 
you, Gipsy, that I loved it better than anything else on 
airth ? 

Gipsy. You love it so well, don't you, that the ten 
thousand offered would be no temptation for you to sell it ? 

Uncle N. Gipsy, I may be foolish. I'm old, ye know, 
an' — an' I'm gettin' childish. But in my weakness, an' — 
seein' things as I do in my dotage, I wouldn't give up this 
home farm for the hull of King Solomon's temple ; I tell ye 
I wouldn't do it. 

Gipsy (forcibly). Then, Uncle Nathan, if money will 
not purchase your farm ; if you love it as devotedly as your 
words imply, don't you sign those papers. 

PICTURE. 

Situation of Characters. 

Uncle Nathan down c. r. Gipsy c. back, with right hand 
pointing at papers. Mrs. Bard well c. r., holding 
papers. Crosby stands near Gipsy and looks as if he 
woidd throttle her. Belle clinging to Gipsy. Mayhew 
l., near pump, ««^ Blynn r. Both in attitudes exhibit- 
ing surprise. 

Uncle Nathan 
Mrs. Bardwell Gipsy. 

Belle. 
Blynn. Crosby. 

(Pump.) 

Mayhew. 
R. TABLEAU CURTAIN. L. 



PLACER GOLD. 41 

SCENE II. Rocky Run. Full extent of stage. Mountain 
drop masked in with set rocks. A stream of water falls 
r. u. E., masked in with set pieces. Tree l. 2 e . for 
Mike to climb into. Hollotu log r. 2 e. Set trees l. and 
r. Enter Joe and Mike l. 3 e., each with shovel and pan. 

Mike {cautiously going down c, followed by Joe). 
Whist ! be aisy, now. Tread softly an 1 make no noise, or 
yeez will be afther raising the divil with fire issuing from 
his mouth and smoke from his nostrils. 

Joe. What the divil is he coming here for? 

Mike. Och ! what ignorance yeez be afther displaying. 
Shure haven't yeez heard how the avil one sthands sintinel 
over buried treasures, an 1 to dig for 'em yeez must hould in- 
can-ter-ray-shuns ? Didn't yeez iver hear ov the loikes ? 

Joe. Shure that is when the treasures are stolen and thin 
buried. This ain't no Captain Kidd wid his gold, so come 
along. (They cross to brook down stage and proceed to 
work.} 

Mike. Begorra ! yeez are spaking the truth. It was off 
from the track I was entoirly. (Washes for gold.} Well, it 
relaves me moind loike going to the confessional, and makes 
me as plazed as when I'm out ov the sight ov Matilda. Och ! 
but I had to cotch it yisterday, I can tell yeez. 

Joe. I wouldn't shtand it. 

Mike. Wouldn't sthand it? Shure can I be afther doing 
any different? Is there any power kin shtop a woman's 
tongue when she has a moind to use it ? I mane, any power 
outside from death, an' the usual- stroke of paralysis. 

Joe. Be jabers ! I'd put a gag in her mouth. 

Mike. Yiss ; but what would Matilda be doing the mane 
toime ? 

Joe. Why did ye marry her in the first place, Moike ? 

Mike. Och ! she was different thin. Before marriage, it 
was, " Me own swate Moike;" and, "Mike, I love yeez;" 
and, "Moike, I should die without yeez;" and thin the 
swatest av kisses she would give me, until — by the sowl ov 
me — it is carried away I was complately. But now — 
och, murther ! — (Starting, and dropping pan,} Did yeez 
hear that ? 

Joe (dropping and liste fling). What was it, Moike ? 



42 PLACER GOLD. 

Mike. Begorra ! I should loike to foind out meself. 
Didn't yeez hear a wheezing noise up there among the rocks, 
loike a man wid the phthisic, or some ould gintleman 
snorin 1 ? {Looks up among rocks. ) 

Joe. I didn't, Moike. 

Mike. Shure then you must be deaf as Baalam's ass. In- 
dade ! its meself that belaves that digging for gold is tickel- 
ish business. 

Joe {picking up pan). Yeez are superstitious, Moike. 
{Business washing for gold. ) 

Mike. Well, I may be loike the ould woman who heard 
a burglar in the house when she didn't. Sure if the noise 
I heard was not a noise, then the noise I heard must have 
been a noise I imagined. Anyhow, here goes for a thousand 
dollar nugget. {Business with pan and shovel.) 

Joe. Yeez are not mistaken about this being the place, 
Moike ? 

Mike. Av coorse I am not. Don't the land up yonder 
{Pointing off 'l. u. e.) belong to Crosby, an' don't the land 
here belong to Bardwell, an' didn't they foind gold both 
sides ov the line? Thim rocks up there {Pointing off R. u. 
e.) is where they found the quartz. Och ! and I've heard 
them tell all about it when they thought I was slayping. 

Joe {examining piece of ore). Say, Moike, is this gold? 

Mike {looking at ore). Shure yeez are a bigger fool thin 
O'Harry was whin hethried to put out a cigar wid his tongue. 
Tare an' ages ! can't yeez tell gold from jasper? {Throwing 
ore away.) Begorra! there's no more gold in that thin 
there was in the crap of Tom Piper's goose when he killed 
it. Say, did yeez iver hear the story ov Tom Piper's goose? 

Joe. I never did, Moike. 

Mike. Well, Tom Piper dhramed three toimes that if he 
would take his ould pet goose at midnight down into a cav- 
ern in the big woods, an' kill it, an' thin build four fires at 
right angles, and sprinkle the four fires wid absinthe, an' 
thin kneel between them, an' say, " I, Tom Piper belavingin 
ghosts an' witches, and that they can convart sthones into 
gold, do hereby sacrifice the body ov my pet goose, an' 
acknowledge myself a belaver, etc," he could open the crap 
— after the body was consumed, remember — and it would 
be filled with bright, yellow nuggets ov gold. 



PLACER GOLD. 43 

Joe. An 1 did Tom Piper do it? 

Mike. Yiss ; afther dhraming the same thing for three 
nights, he took the ould goose on the midnight av the 
fourth, an' went to the cavern. Begorra ! it was a pokerish 
place, I kin tell yeez. There was bats, and snakes, and 
bugs, and adders, and ivery thing else that made Tom 
Piper's flesh crape loike the skin ov an eel over a hot fire. 
But he killed the goose, and built the four fires, and 
sprinkled them with absinthe, and knelt between them, and 
said: "I, Tom Piper, belaving in ghosts, and witches — " 
{Shriek, or hooting of owl heard among rocks off c) Holy 
St. Patrick ! {Drops pan, rushes around stage, and off 
behind rock l. u. e.) 

Joe. The divil is afther us. {Drops pan, and rushes out 
behind rock r. 3 e.) 

{After a little, Mike's head is seen to rise above rocks. ) 

Mike {in a hoarse whisper) . Joe ! Joe ! 

Joe {faintly). Yiss, Moike, I'm here. 

Mike. Are yeez killed, Joe? 

Joe. No, Moike, I'm alive; but I say, Moike? 

Mike. Yiss, Joe. 

Joe. Did Tom Piper get the gold? 

Mike. Divil a bit, Joe. He dhramed a lie ; but I say, 
Joe? 

Joe. Yiss, Moike. 

Mike. Can yeez account for that terrible sound? 

Joe {coming from behind rock). Yiss, Moike; it was a 
blasted owl. There he is now perched on that ould dead 
limb . {Points off c . ) 

Mike {coming down) . The ould satan. {Looking up.) 
Yiss, there he is, sure enough. Begorra ! he loiked to have 
frightened me out ov me seven senses. I say, Joe? 

Joe. Yiss, Moike. 

Mike. I belave the place is haunted. 

Joe. I'm ov the same moind as yourself, Moike. 

Mike. I say, Joe. 

Joe. Yiss, Moike. 

Mike. I kin shtand Matilda's tongue betther thin the 
outlandish noises ov this place. It's a duty we owe ould 
Ireland to save our lives, an' to do it we had betther lave at 



44 PLACER GOLD. 

Joe. Shall we lave the gold, Moike? 

Mike. Divil take the gold. It's not for the loikes ov us 
to foind it, so come along. {They pick tip tools and start 
off L. i E. Noise outside; looking off.} Thunder an 1 
ounds ! here comes those pros — pec — tus. Hide as quick 
as iver you can. {Runs down stage. Hides tools behind 
?'ock, and climbs itito tree L. 2 E.) 

Joe {running around stage). Where shall I hide? 
{Throws tools offR. 2 E.) 

Mike. Tare an' ages ! hide anywheres. If you kin do 
no betther, shtick your head into a hole loike a partridge, 
and kape shtill. 

Joe {looking at log). Here's a hollow log. I'll crawl 
into that. {Works himself into log. M?isic.) 
{Eider Mayhew and Blynn with ax, pans, pickax, etc., 
l. 1 E.) 

Blynn {throwing down tools and taking specimens from 
bag). You, Mayhew, place these specimens among the 
rocks, and I will attend to the stream. Crosby will keep 
Bardwell back until we get the place well salted. 

Mayhew {taking specimens). All right. By Jove ! this 
is worse than the bogus mine swindle. 

Blynn. Yes ; but we are well paid for it. Two thous- 
and dollars is not to be winked at. * Crosby has paid us to 
do this job, and it remains with us to carry it out. 

Mayhew. And if that girl don't interfere again, we will. 
She has made Bardwell suspicious already. By the way, 
how has she upset you so? I cannot account for it. 

Blynn. The story is too long to repeat here. Suffice it 
to say, that a child of mine was stolen by gipsies, at an early 
age, and was never recovered. The shock killed my wife, 
after which I became reckless. This girl resembles that 
child. Such is my story in a nutshell. Now let us plant 
the gold. (Mayhew goes up rocks, and Blynn down stage 
and off "l. u. e.) 

Mike {aside) . Begorra ! there's something quare about 
this. Indayed ! I niver knew they had to plant gold to 
make it grow ; but perhaps it's the way they do it in this 
divilish America. {In a hoarse whisper.) I say, Joe ! 

Joe {faintly). Yiss, Moike. 

Mike. Are yeez comfortable down there ? 



PLACER GOLD. 45 

Joe. I'm moightly squazed, Moike. Kin I come out? 

Mike. No ; kape shtill. The spalpeens are coming 
back. 

Blynn (enters from l. u. e., and speaks to Mayhew, who 
comes down rocks). I can't help thinking how easily we 
fooled that Irishman. I knew at the time he would convey 
the news to Bardwell, and it seems he did at the first oppor- 
tunity. (Works in stream.) 

Mike (aside). Thunder an' ounds ! 

Mayhew. Yes ; straight as a carrier pigeon. His sham- 
ming sleep was fortunate for us, for it paved the way for 
arousing the old man's cupidity. Well, what is wanted 
next? 

Blynn. Chop that log in two, and we will move one end 
up here for Bardwell a seat. We want him where "he can 
watch us and not question our honesty. 

Mayhew. O yes! our honesty, ha! ha! ha! Well, 
here goes. 

(Mayhew mounts log, faci7ig audience. As he strikes the 
first blow, Joe is heard to shout. ) 

Joe. Hould on there ! Hould on there ! 

Mayhew (dropping ax and jumping from log) . What 
the devil ! 

Blynn (drawing revolver) . There's a man in the log. 

Mayhew. Shoot him, then. If you don't our scheme is 
ruined. 

Joe. Hould on ! hould on ! don't shoot ! I've a mither 
and tin children to support — 

Mike (forgetting himself and shouting). Nine, Joe, 
nine. (Recollecting himself; aside.) The divil take me if 
I haven't cut off me own head. 

Blynn (turning to tree) . What ! another of them ? 
Yes, and that pesky Irishman. Mayhew, attend to the log, 
while I bring that chap out of the tree. 
(Blynn points rovolver at Mike, who scrambles down. 

Mayhew points revolver at Joe, who draws back in out of 

sight. Music.) 

Mike (scrambling down) . I'm coming, your Rivirence. 
Don't be afther shooting, your Highness. (Landing on all 
fours.) I'm wid you, your Majesty. 



46 PLACER GOLD. 

Blynn. Well, what are you doing here? 

Mike {rising to his feet and edging r.). Prospecting, 
your Honor, if it may plaze your Highness. {Bowing tow.) 

Blynn. Prospecting — eh! Well, just now your pros- 
pects are somewhat demoralized. Mayhew, bring that 
fellow out of the log. 

Joe. Don't be afther shooting and Til come. I've a 
mither and tin children to support — 

Mike. It's only nine he has, your Honor, if it may plaze 
your Highness. 

Mayhew. Come ! hurry up. 

Joe {emerging from log) . I'm nearly all out, sor. {Rises 
and crosses to Mike, r. Blynn and Mayhew, l.) 

Blynn {after a pause) . Well — what are we going to 
do with you? 

Mike. If it may plaze yer Highness, we will join the 
schame. 

Blynn. Then you have overheard our conversation? 

Mike. Shure I thried to stop up me ears, but they would 
kape open in spite ov me. 

Blynn {aside to Mayhew) . What shall we do with 
them? 

Mayhew. Offer them a tip to join us. It is our only 
hope. 

Blynn. I will try them. {Alond.) Can you fellows 
keep a secret if you are paid for it ? 

Mike. Begorra ! I'm willing to thry. 

Joe. I'm ovthe same moind as Moike. 

Blynn. Well, you have overheard enough to know what 
is wanted of you. We will give you one hundred dollars 
apiece to assist us. Remember, though, if you prove treach- 
erous, we will shoot you down like dogs. Are you with us or 
not? 

Mike. I'm wid you, sor — for a hundred dollars. 

Joe. And I am wid Mike. 

Blynn. Mayhew, pay them the money. 

Mayhew {Paying them money) . Remember we shall keep 
an eye on you, and it is death to the one who shows the 
white feather. 

Mike. Niver yeez fear for me. {Looking at money.) 
Och ! but won't Matilda grate me now wid a shmile on her 
face. 



PLACER GOLD. 4/ 

Blynn. Now let them drag that log to the bank. Cros- 
by and Bardwell are coming, and we must have things 
ready. 
(Mike and Joe drag log rep stage l. c, then cross to r. i e, 

as Belle, Uncle Nathan, and Crosby enter l. i e. 

Blynn and Mayhew remain l. c.) 

Belle. Here we are, grandpa. 

Uncle N. {looking around}. Lord bless ye, yes; an 1 
things look jest as nat'ral as they did when I was a yengster, 
an' used ter play up there among the rocks. I didn't mis- 
trust then there wus gold here, I — I guess I didn't. 

Crosby {perceiving Mike and Joe, he crosses to them and 
says savagely) . What are you here for — eh ? Are you 
paid for this? (Mayhew crosses over and whispers in his 
ear.). Oh ! ah ! {Pleasantly.) Prospecting — eh, Michael? 

Mike. Yiss, sor. 

Crosby. And you, Joseph. 

Joe. I've found a hundred dollars, sor. 

Uncle N. {overhearing last remark). Er — er — what's 
that? YouVe been findin' gold too, Joseph? 

Mike {confused and answering for Joe). Yiss — yiss, 
your riverence ; jhust a little. Joseph an 1 I found a little 
in the shtream. 

Belle. O my ! 

Uncle N. You don't mean it! B-b-by John Rogers, 
you don't mean it ! Let me see it — let me see it, Michael. 

Mike {confused, and feeling in his pockets) . Yiss — 
yiss, your Rivirence. Yiss, sor, yiss. {Aside.) Bad luck 
to it ! how can a man lie and spake the truth at the same 
toime ? 

Blynn {down c). Here are the samples. Examine 
them, Mr. Bardwell. {Gives samples to Nathan.) They 
are the largest specimens found yet. 

Mike {aside r.). Begorra ! I'm out ov that wid a clear 
conscience. I say, Joe? 

Joe. Yiss, Moike. 

Mike. It's a mane shcrape we're in. 

Joe. It is that, Moike. 

Belle {looking at gold). O dear! I thought gold was 
covered with letters and pictures like the piece I wear around 
my neck. Didn't you, grandpa Crosby? 



48 PLACER GOLD. 

Crosby. No, no, child. {Examining specimens.) 
Michael, did you find this in the stream? 

Mike. No — no, sor. (Mayhew nods to him.) Yiss, 
yiss, your Rivirence. Begorra ! we scooped it up wid a pan. 

Uncle N. With a pan ? Scooped it up with a pan? 

Mike. Yiss, your Rivirence, wid a pan ; yiss, sor. We 
have the pan here, sor. (Joe and Mike rush out after 
pans and return.) Here they are, sor. 

Uncle N. {excited). I want ter know! I want ter 
know! B-b-by John Rogers ! there must be gold here. If 
our hired men can find it, Crosby, there must be gold here. 

Crosby. No doubt of it. I have been convinced of the 
fact for some time. It is here, Nathan, waiting for us. 

Blynn. Now, Mr. Bardwell, if you will please be seated, 
we will see what the sands of the stream will reveal. We 
want to convince you that gold can be found in Rocky Run. 

Uncle N. {seating himself on log). Wa'all, I'm ready. 
I — I — I'm ready ter see the gold. 

Blynn. Mayhew, you had better dig among the rocks. 
The men and myself will work in the stream. Now to 
business. 
(Mayhew takes pick and ascends rocks r. u. e. Joe, Mike 

a?id Blynn work in stream. Belle stands r. c. watch- 
ing them. Nathan and Crosby l. c. Blynn drops 

samples into pans unobserved. ) 

Uncle N. Crosby, look a-here a minit, I — I — I want 
ter ask a question. 

Crosby. I am listening, Nathan. 

Uncle N. Now s'posin' there is gold here, an' — an 1 it 
looks like it — it looks like it ! what do you propose ? Give 
'em five thousand dollars an 1 — an' let 'em run off with it ? 

Crosby. Far from it, Nathan. Everything shall be 
legally arranged. They deposit with us bricks of gold ; half 
in your possession, and half in mine, as security for the 
money we advance. 

Uncle N. So when I mortgage my farm, I — I hold 
gold bricks as security. 

Crosby. Security against them, Nathan. Understand 
me, security against them. If they decamp with the money, 
we have the bricks of gold to offset it. 

Uncle N. Wa'all, s'posin' they don't decamp? S'posin' 



PLACER GOLD. 49 

they invest the money, an 1 — an' the gold don't hold out. 
What becomes of the bricks then? 

Crosby. Perfectly plain, Nathan. Upon completion of 
the works, we return the gold bricks, and release them from 
all responsibility. Our "risk lies in the gold becoming 
exhausted. See? 

Uncle N. I see — I see, I'm beginnin' ter see. Those 
air bricks are security atween them an 1 ourselves. I — I kin 
understand that. Ter furnish my share o' the money, I 
must mortgage you my farm. I — I kin understand that, 
too. Now when they invest the money, them air bricks are 
ter be returned. Then, if the stream o' gold runs dry, the 
money is gone, the gold bricks are gone, an 1 — an 1 it's purty 
evident that the farm is gone, too. 

Crosby. Tut, tut, Nathan. The investment is secure. 
Trust me for that. There is gold here — pounds of it. We 
have seen it for ourselves. There is money in the scheme, 
Nathan, money. 

Uncle N. There may be, Crosby; but somethin' inardly 
whispers that — that I'd better keep out of it. I've been 
swindled afore; an' I ain't too old ter be swindled agin. 
Then Gipsy whispered some dark things yesterday. Things 
that — that apply purty strongly ter you, Crosby. 

Crosby {aside). Curses light on that minx! {Aloud.) 
Oh, the girl meant well. I admit the advisability of being 
careful. It is how I have made my money, eh, Nathan? 
Did I not feel implicit confidence in this scheme, I should 
withdraw myself. But there is gold here. I have investi- 
gated, and I know it. Ill carry you through, Nathan. I'll 
anchor you safely — trust me for it. 

Uncle N. I hope so, I hope so. I can't believe you 
would ruin me meaningly, Crosby, I can't believe it. We 
are too closely united for that. We have lived as neighbors 
for many years, an' though different in many respects, 
still, we have never quarreled. We have followed our 
children ter the altar, an' we have followed them ter the 
grave. We have mingled our tears together, an 1 — an' we 
are both left childless in our old age. Before us is Belle — 
the blossom that is left — near ter you as ter me, Crosby, 
an' the link that should bind us together. Now with this 
one lone flower atween us, an' the memory of our dead 



50 PLACER GOLD. 

children fresh an 1 green in our minds, I — I can't believe you 
would work a scheme ter ruin me, I — I can't believe it. 
(Crosby fidgets nervously while Nathan is speaking, and 
finally turns away l. Mike has turned pan of gravel on 

bank R. c, and is down on hands and knees examining it. 

Belle is assisting him. As Nathan ceases speaking, 

Mike suddenly jumps up with specimen.) 

Mike (holding up specimen). Come here! Ivery 
mithers son ov you come here! (All rush around him.) 
Will yeez look at this, now. Did yeez iver see the loikes ? 

Blynn. Sure enough. Here is the largest nugget found 
yet. (Taking sample and showing it to Nathan.) I told 
you, Bardwell, there was gold here. Gold in abundance. 

Uncle N. It looks like it ! It looks like it ! 

Blynn. Now let us examine our work. (Joe and 
Blynn get pans.) 

Mayhew (coming down from rocks and showing samples) . 
Well, Blynn, I have equalled our find of the other day. 
More gold to the quantity of ore by one half, and a sprink- 
ling of silver besides. 

Blynn. Better and better. (Holding up samples oj 
gold.) Here are two good specimens in mine. (To Joe.) 
Friend, how is it with you? 

Joe. It's all gold, your Honor. 

Blynn (laughing). Not so good news as that. (Pick- 
ing out sample.) And yet, you are not without a specimen. 
Your eyes are disordered, I fear. 

Joe. Yiss, sor. Touch ov a waterfall, the docther said. 

Blynn. What! 

Joe. Waterfall, sor, waterfall. 

Blynn (laughing). Waterfall? You mean "cataract," 
don't you? 

Joe. It's all the same thing, sor. 

Crosby. Nathan, can we want any further proof ? Have 
we not seen enough to convince us that we are rich men ? 

Uncle N. I'm satisfied — I'm satisfied. Bring on your 
papers, an' — an 1 I'll sign 'em. 

Mike (loudly). Oh, the divil ! (Mayhew turns upon 
him and shows revolver. Mike claps hand to his face. ) 
bee stung me, sor. 

Belle. Grandma told you to be careful, you know. 



PLACER GOLD. 5 I 

Uncle N. Oh, Til be careful. I've seen the gold — the 
gold is here. Then agin, Belle, these men respect gray 
hairs, an 1 — an' they may have an old white-haired father 
themselves, ye see, an' rather than defraud an old man like 
as their father must be, they'ed die fust — they'ed die fust, 
Belle. 

Belle. But men who are wicked don't care sometimes. 

Uncle N. Ha ! ha ! ye see, gentlemen, little Belle 
stands up for her old grandad, Lord bless ye, I guess she 
does. Why, Belle, these men won't deceive me, they — 
they won't deceive me. 

Belle {slowly, and looking into his face} . But ii they 
should, grandpa? 

Uncle N. If they should ? If they should ? {Fiercely. ) 
Why, if they should, Belle, I — I — I'd curse 'em. I'd 
haunt them with my grey hairs "till the sod covered 'em. I'd 
call down upon 'em the judgment of Almighty God ; an' 
He who judges every man accordin' ter the deeds done in 
the body, would mete out to them the punishment they 
deserved. I'd do this, Belle ; an' that God who stands by 
those who serve Him, will uphold me. Bring on your 
papers, Crosby, I — I — I'll sign 'em. 
(JVhile Nathan is speaking, Joe and Mike go r. i e. 

Crosby stands near l. i e. Mayhew seated on rock r. 

of c. Blynn, c. Nathan and Belle l. of c. When 

Nathan says: "Bring on your papers, etc.,"'' no one 

moves.} 

Uncle N. {after a pause}. Bring on your papers, 
Crosby, I'll sign 'em. {No one moves. Pause. Crosby 
fidgets nervously. Nathan turns to him.} Is there that in 
the papers, Crosby, that makes you afeared of 'em ? 

Crosby {searching his pockets). No — no; I was look- 
ing for them. {Producing documents.} Here is the note. 
Now, Mr. Blynn, bring on your agreement. Everything 
shall be square, Nathan. You, Mike and Joe, come forward 
as witnesses. 

Mike. Begorra ! I'll not be a witness — (Mayhew shows 
revolver) unless Joe will. 

Joe {seeing revolver). 1*11 be witness, your Honor. 
( They come forward. Stage slowly grows dark, and famt 
thunder heard in the distance.) 



52 PLACER GOLD. 

Crosby. Blynn, here is the money Nathan and I agree 
to furnish. {Hands him sealed package ; aside to Blynn.) 
You understand. {Aloud.) Now bring on the gold bricks. 
(Blynn takes gold bricks from bag and hands them to 
Crosby.) There ! now arrange a place for Nathan to sign 
the papers. 

Uncle N. I have a place, Crosby, a — a place on which 
ter sign 'em. 

Crosby {looking around) . I fail to see it, Nathan. 

Uncle N. {placing his hand upon Belle's head). Here 
— here is my tablet, gentlemen. {AU show surprise.) 

Crosby. You — you mean — 

Uncle N. I mean, that it shall be innocence beneath 
those papers, an' a God ter witness 'em above, an' if evil is 
in them, may they burn the hearts of those who wrought 'em. 

Mike {aside to Joe, r., as Crosby prepares papers to 
sign). I say, Joe. 

Joe. Yiss, Moike. 

Mike. I wish that hundred dollars was in the bottom ov 
the say. 

Joe. I'm ov the same moind as yourself, Moike. 
(Nathan signs agreement. Position of characters.) 
Uncle Nathan. 

Belle. 
Blynn. 
Mayhew. Crosby. 

Mike. 
Joe. 
r. l. 

Crosby {after Nathan has signed agreement) . Now let 
the witnesses sign. 

Mike {coming forward) . I have an aversion to the pen 
{Sees revolver) — but I'll sign. (Mike and Joe sign, then 
fallback R. I e.) 

Uncle N. Crosby, give me the note. {Takes note.) 
If, through any fault of yours, I lose my farm, may the good 
Lord judge you according to the deed. {Music. Nathan 
signs note. Witnesses sign. Lightning and thunder. Gipsy 
seen on the rocks above.) 

Crosby {taking the note and putting it into his pocket ; 
aside.) Ha! I have conquered at last. 



PLACER GOLD. 53 

( j 1 ps Y (shouting) . Nathan Bard well ! (All turn and look 
up at the rocks.) Don't you sign those papers. I have 
found their trunk of samples. This is the gold mine of Rocky 
Run. (Stands on edge of cliff, clinging by right hand, and 
holding small tin trunk aloft in her left. Picture. Chord. ) 
(All exhibit great surprise. Uncle Nathan staggers back, 
and nearly falls. Belle clings to him. Joe and Mike 
cling to each other. Crosby shakes his fist threateningly at 
Gipsy. Scene closes with TABLEAU.) 
Situations at close. 
(Rocks.) 
Gipsy. 
Mayhew. 

Blynn. Uncle Nathan. 

Belle. 
Mike. 

Joe. Crosby, 

r. L. 

ACT DROP. 

(One year supposed to have elapsed between Act II. and 

Act III.) 



54 PLACER GOLD. 



ACT III. 



SCENE I. — Uncle Nathan's dooryard as in Act I. and 

Act II. As curtain rises, Joe is discovered seated on block 

l. c, smoking. 

Mike {enters from c). Yeez are not working to-day, 
Joe. 

Joe (looking despondent} . No, Moike. I'm out ov a job 
now. IVe worked here for fifteen years going on, and a 
betther place I've niver found ; but they turn Bard well 
out to-day, an' it laves me no place to lay me head. 

Mike. Begorra ! Crosby turned me off long ago. Bad 
luck to him ! he don't improve wid ould age, loike good 
whiskey; but grows sour, loike ould grapes. I say, Joe? 

Joe. Yiss, Moike. 

Mike. We hould the saycret that would let Bardwell 
kape the farm. 

Joe. Indade we do, Moike ; and IVe a moind to revale 
it. I darsen't do it, though. 

Mike. No more do I, Joe. Thim pros — pec — tus 
threatened to shoot us if we told, an' Crosby says he kin 
hang us, an' between the lot they hould us fast. Have yeez 
disposed ov that hundred dollars yet? 

Joe. No, Moike; IVe hidden it away. It's not the 
courage I have to stipend it. 

Mike. No more have I, Joe. Shure and I belave the 
stuff is counterfeit. 

Joe {looking up quickly') . Have you rasons for belaving 
that, Moike? 

Mike. I have that, Joe. I thried to pass a bill at the 
circus and they wouldn't take it. It's a moighty poor bill that 
won't pass at a show. 

Joe. Faith, now you mention it, I thried the same thing. 
They called me a blackguard, and threatened to have me 
arrested. I hid them bills away. 

Mike. Yeez didn't have the courage to pass them, Joe. 

Joe. No, Moike ; they are bogus as the gold bricks an' 
the mine ov Rocky Run. 

Mike. Shure we are ov the same moind entoirly. I say, 
Joe? 



PLACER GOLD. 55 

Joe. Yiss, Moike. 

Mike. How does the ould gintleman feel over being 
ejected from the premises? 

Joe. Don't mention it, Moike. It's not the courage I 
have to go inside the house. So I sit here and smoke, and 
think what a dirthy blackguard I am for kaping shtill over a 
matter ov self preservation. 

Matilda {calling outside c). Michael! Mi-ch-a-e-1! 

Mike {starting). Holy St. Patrick ! here comes Matilda. 
Shure I'd rather meet a conclave ov soldiers than Matilda on 
the war-path. Til hide in the well, Joe, and when she 
comes, plaze lade her oif the track. 

Joe. I'll do me best, Moike ; but if yeez are found out 
yeez must take the consequences. (Mike hides in well.) 

Matilda {outside). Michael! Mich-a-e-1! {Enters c. 
Takes Joe for Mike.) Oh, there you are, you brute. I've 
a good mind — ■ {Recogjiizes Joe.) Ah, is that you, Joe? I 
thought you was that husband of mine. Have you seen him, 
Joe? 

Joe. Not since the last toime, ma'am, no ma'am. 

Matilda {leaning against well). That is strange. I 
saw him coming directly toward the house. Have you been 
here all the morning? 

Joe. Only when I've been away, ma'am. I've been here 
an 1 there — sometimes there, an' sometimes here. 

Matilda. Why, then you must have seen him. 

Joe. I must, ma'am, if he was here, assuredly, ma'am. . 

Matilda. Possibly he went into the house. 

Joe. He moight, ma'am. There's a back door to the 
house, ma'am. 

Matilda. Well, let him go. He's not worth looking 
after, anyway. {Looking at Joe coquettishly .) Do you 
know, Joseph, if he resembled you, I should think a great 
deal more of him ? 

Joe {quickly). You moight, ma'am. Yiss, ma'am, av 
coorse, ma'am. 

Matilda. But he don't. He is the most insignificant 
specimen of a man I ever saw. He is shiftless, and boorish, 
and ugly, and never furnishes me with money. Ugh ! I 
should like to hurl him into this well. 

Joe {growing nervous) . Av coorse, ma'am ; yiss, ma'am. 



56 PLACER GOLD. 

Matilda (approaching Joe affectionately). But you, 
Joseph, are just the man a woman would admire. You are 
so pleasant, you know, and considerate. I wonder you 
never think of getting married, Joseph? 

Joe {fidgeting nervously). I'm too old, ma'am. I've a 
mither an' tin children to support — 

Mike (in a hoarse whisper). Nine, Joe, nine ! 

Matilda (starting) . Mercy ! what was that ? 

Joe. Only the wind, ma'am. I've heard it before, 
ma'am. 

Matilda. Well, nevermind. (Places her hand lovingly 
upon his shoulder. Mike seen peeking out of well.) Do 
you know, Joseph, you would have been the man of my 
choice ? I could love — 

Joe (moving uneasily). They turn Bard well out of the 
house to-day, ma'am. Crosby wid officers are coming — 

Matilda. Well, let them come, who cares. I have 
often wanted to talk with you, Joseph, and this is my first 
opportunity. You are so much superior to Mike that I 
cannot help loving you. (Slipping her arm around his neck.) 

Joe (partly turning around on block). Bardwell's cow 
slipped over the ledge last night, an' broke her neck. It's 
trouble upon trouble that man has — 

Matilda. Joseph, listen to me. I'm married, I know; 
but I was led into it by not knowing my own mind. Had I 
thought of you then as much as now — 

Joe (speaking loudly). A skunk killed tin chickens for 
Tom Lankins last week by climbing into the stable window. 
They knowed it was a skunk by the shmell. 

Matilda. Dear me ; can't you listen to what I am 
saying? What do I care about skunks, and chickens, and 
dead cattle. Only give your consent, and I'll seek a divorce 
from Mike at once. (Throwing her arms around him.) Oh, 
Joseph ! you must have me. 

Mike (shouting excitedly) . Yeez kin have her, Joe ! 
Yeez kin have her ! (Recollecting himself.) Oh, the divil ! 
(Disappears.) 

Matilda (starting back with a scream) . Mercy ! where 
is he? Mike has been watching us. O Joseph ! support me, 
I'm fainting. (Falls into his arms ; Joe supports her 
awkwardly .) 



PLACER GOLD. 57 

Joe (shouting) . Moike ! Moike ! come here quick ! 
Come here ! Matilda's having a fit. 

Mike (down in well). Have it out with her, Joe. I'll 
not interfere. She's fit me more thin once. If yeez can't 
conquer her, knock her on the heacf wid a brick. 

Matilda (jumping up). Oh, you brute ! I'll teach you 
to insult me like this. (Rushes to well and looks in. Joe 
remains I., i e.) There you are — are you? Oh, I'll fix 
you now. (Takes bucket of water and pours part of it on to 
him.) Knock me on the head with a brick, will you? 
(Pours 7nore water.) 

Mike (down in well) . Don't ! don't ! Matilda. I didn't 
mane it ! I didn't mane it, I tell ye. 

Matilda (throwing water). Knock me on the head 
with a brick — eh ? Don't you climb up, if you do, I'll rap you 
with the bucket. Oh. I've got you right where I want you. 
(Throwing water .) Want to hit me with a brick, do you? 

Mike (shouting). Joe! Joe! take her away! For the 
love of Heaven, take her away ! It's drownding me she is 
complaytely. 

Joe (approaching). Matilda, yeez had betther — 

Matilda. Shut up ! or I'll serve you the same way. 
(Joseph falls back.) You deceived me. You led me into 
this knowingly. (To Mike.) Oh, you vile wretch ! I've a 
good mind to drown you. 

Gipsy (entering c). What are you looking at, Matilda; 
your face in the well ? 

Matilda. Yes ; it's my face, every particle of it. Just 
look at it ; isn't it lovely? 

Gipsy (looking into well) . Why, Mike, for mercy's sake ! 
what are you doing down there ? 

Mike. She's kaping me here, Gip. Take her away, an' 
let me out ov this. 

Gipsy. Oh, Matilda, let him come up. 

Matilda (laughing). Yes, I'll let him come up. I'll 
just sprinkle him once more, though. (Throws balance of 
water into well.) Ha ! ha ! ha ! hit me on the head with a 
brick again, won't you? (Sets down bucket and starts off .) 
Well, good-bye. Wipe him down with a towel, Gipsy, he'll 
need it. (Goes off c, singing.) Come, Michael! dear 
Mich-a-e-1 ! come h-o-m-e. 



58 PLACER GOLD. 

Gipsy. She has gone, Mike, so now you can climb out. 
(Mike climbs out of well. He is wet, hair dishevelled, and 
looks badly used up.) Ha! ha! you are a sorry sight, I 
must confess. 

Mike {coming down front) . Niver has Michael O'Connor 
been used loike this since the day he was tilted into a mud 
puddle by Tim Rafferty 1 s goat. Begorra ! I'll aythur commit 
suicide, before night, or I'll join some regiment, an 1 die 
fighting the nagers. 

Gipsy. No you won't, Michael. After you dry your 
clothes, and get over being frightened, you'll be livelier than 
ever. The trouble is you are void of manly courage. 

Joe (l. i e.). You're roight, ma'am. He's not the 
spunk av a louse. 

Mike. Tare an' ages ! where is your own courage, you 
spalpeen? Why didn't yeez drag Matilda from the well 
when I shouted to yeez ? 

Joe. Would a gintleman loike meself be afther touching 
a woman? It is more rispect I have for the gentler sex. 

Mike. Begorra! so have I (Aside.) when I can't help it. 

Belle {appearing in doorway). O Gipsy ! I am so glad 
to see you. {Runs to Gipsy and kisses her. Perceives 
Mike.) Why, what is the matter with Mike? 

Gipsy {laughing). Oh, Mike has been on a little matter 
of exploration, that's all. 

Mike. Digging for gold, acushla. 

Joe. Yiss ; an' he found it in the well. 

Belle. Oh, Gipsy, will they turn grandpa out of the 
house to-day? He says he will never go only as they drag 
him out. I think grandpa Crosby is real mean, don't you? 

Gipsy. His irregularities might be improved upon, I 
must confess. Where is Uncle Nathan ; in the house? 

Belle. Yes ; he heard your voice, and said he wanted 
to see you. He will be here in a minute. {Looking toward 
house.) Oh, he is coming now. {Runs out to meet him, 
followed by Gipsy.) 

Joe. Mike, come to the barn. When Bardwell is 
around I feel moighty unazy in me moind. 

Mike. So do I, Joe. Since I took that hundred dollars, 
the wurld seems upside down ; an' something whispers : 
"Michael! you're the greatest rogue on earth." Go on, 
Joe. (Joe and Mike exit l, i e. « enter Uncle N.) 



PLACER GOLD. 59 

Uncle N. (Belle and Gipsy assist him down steps. 
His face shows traces of weeping}. That's right! that's 
right, Belle; you'll help your old grandad, won't ye? Well, 
well, Gipsy, I'm glad ter see ye — right down glad ter see ye. 

Gipsy. I knew you would be, Uncle Nathan, and that is 
why I came over. Let Belle and me assist you to a seat. 
{They help him to bench near door.} 

Uncle N. Yes, you may — you may, Gipsy. I'm rattled 
to-day, sorter off my pins, I guess ; but I — I wanted ter see 
ye, Gipsy. {Sits down. Belle r. and Gipsy l. of him.) 
There! that's right. I — I — I'm all right now. Yes, I 
wanted ter see ye, Gipsy. This may be the last time we 
shall meet under the old home roof, so I wanted ter see ye. 

Belle. Oh, grandpa ! will they take you away from the 
old farm? 

Uncle N. Yes, Belle, yes. I couldn't meet the note, ye 
know, an 1 so the old farm must go. I've been notified, an' 
the time specified by law has expired, so now I must take 
the consequences. 

Gipsy. Have you any place in view, Uncle Nathan? 

Uncle N. Only one, Gipsy ; an' — an' I hate ter 
mention it. Ye see, when a man becames old, an 1 without 
any means of support, you know what comes next, Gipsy, you 
know what comes next. 

Gipsy. Is it possible that you have got to go to the poor 
farm? 

Uncle N. It looks like it, Gipsy, it looks like it. Maria 
an' I have talked the matter all over, an' prayed ter the good 
Lord ter help us — an' I think he will, Gipsy, I think he will ; 
but somehow, jest now, the way looks dark an' cloudy, an' it 
does seem as if the old farm must go. {Wipes tears from 
his eyes.) 

Belle. There, there, grandpa, don't cry, please don't. 
You've got Gipsy who loves you, and who comes to see you, 
and you've got grandma, and you've got Belle, too, you 
know, and we all love you. 

Uncle N. Lord bless ye! so ye do — so ye do, Belle. 
The Lord has been good ter me, that's a fact, an' I should 
not murmur. But when I think of them takin' the old farm, 
takin 1 it from me through ways I cannot explain, an' for 
things I never had, I can't help feeling angry, Belle, an 1 — 
an' wishin' things was different. 



60 PLACER GOLD. 

Gipsy. Father Crosby might give you the farm, and then 
be rich as a Jew. Oh, I should like to handle his money for 
a while, I'd make it jingle, don't you think I wouldn't. 

Uncle N. Crosby worships money, Gipsy, idolizes it as 
his God. But a day will come when he will wish he had 
worshiped some other God than mammon. He swore to 
have this farm years ago ; an' — an' through fair means or 
foul he has got it ; but it'll haunt him, Gipsy, it'll haunt him. 

Belle. Well, where you and grandma go, I shall go, if 
it is to Halifax. 

Uncle N. No, no, Belle. Crosby will take you to his 
own home, an' perhaps it is for the best. 

Belle. I won't go to grandpa Crosby's. I won't — I 
won't — I won't — 

Uncle N. You will have Gipsy with you, Belle. 

Belle (throwing her arms around his neck). Yes, but I 
can't leave you ; you know I can't. 

Gipsy. Wherever he goes, you shall see him, Belle. 
And he shall have a bed to sleep on to-night, if you and I, 
Belle, have to take mine on our shoulders and carry it to 
him. 

Uncle N. You — you would sacrifice much for my sake, 
both on ye; but sometimes, ye know, friendship can't save 
us when it would serve us most. I wus notified ter leave an' 
— an' I should have done it ; but I couldn't, Gipsy, I — I — 
I couldn't. I started to take the old family portraits from 
the wall, them as have hung there through my fathers' day 
an' mine ; but when I touched 'em, they — they seemed ter 
reproach me, an' so I left 'em alone. I'll let 'em hang there 
till "they tear 'em down; an' I'll not cross that threshold 
until they take me up bodily an' bear me away. I'll not do 
it, I say. I love the old farm ; an' that which I love I will 
protect, even at the peril of my life. (Rises to his feet agi- 
tated.) 

Belle. Oh, grandpa! where are^you going? 

Uncle N. I — I — I'm going into the house, Belle. I'll 
protect it even as a lioness protects her young ; an' if they 
want me, they must drag me out. 

Belle (following him). Grandma said you must not 
show resistance. 

Uncle N. (in doorway). I — I — I can't show much 



PLACER GOLD. 6l 

resistance, Belle ; but when it comes ter surrendering my 
farm, Til never do it. Won't you come in, Gipsy? 

Gipsy. No, Uncle Nathan. I want to free my mind, 
and in order to do it, I want all out doors. They will be 
here soon, and — (looking off) Here they come now. 

Uncle N. Wa'all, let 'em come. I'm ready for 'em — I 
— I'm ready for 'em. (Exit into house. Belle leans 
against side of house r. Gipsy crosses to well.) 

(Crosby and Sheriff enter c.) 

Crosby (perceiving Gipsy) . Ha ! you here ? Why do 
I find you under foot everywhere I move ? 

Gipsy. Because I am a worm in your path ; but don't 
you tread on me ; if you do, I'll bite. 

Crosby. You will — eh ? Mighty important you are 
getting of late. What are you doing here? 

Gipsy. I am here to protect an old and decrepid man 
against the machinations of a man without principle or 
honor ; and by that courage which I inherited from unknown 
parents, I'll do it. 

Crosby. Fine talk, this. Protect Bardwell, eh? How'll 
you do it? 

Gipsy. With my tongue. I'll denounce you with my 
every breath. I'll hiss it in your face until I make life a 
burden to you. 

Crosby. This talk to me — me, your protector? You, 
whom I took as a beggarly brat and could discharge as the 
same? (Starting toward her with hands clinched.) I've a 
good mind — 

Gipsy (warns him off). Touch me if you dare. 

Crosby (starting back). Ah-ha ! threaten me, *eh? 
Have a care, girl, have a care ; or not a cent of my money 
will you ever get. I'm not to be trifled with. Keep your 
mouth shut or I may strike you. 

Gipsy. Ha! ha! ha! strike me, will you ? (Takes pistol 
from her pocket. ) Do you see that ? Lay a finger upon me 
and you will find me a human tigress. I never expect your 
money. Neither do I want money that is obtained through 
fraud. (Enter Joe and Mike l. i e., and listen.) 

Crosby. Fraud ? You call this fraud, eh? I am per- 
forming a duty sanctioned by law. 



62 PLACER GOLD. 

Gipsy. It is a lie. If the law knew what I know it would 
denounce you as a swindler. 

Crosby {startled). What do you mean, girl ? 

Gipsy. I mean, that you talk in your sleep, and I have 
heard you. What you said has convinced me that you 
planned that whole gold scheme yourself. 

Crosby {starting toward her) . What ! 

Gipsy {pointing pistol) . Stand back ! Come too near at 
your peril. I say, you concocted this plot to rob Uncle 
Nathan of his farm. Could I prove it I can tell you that you 
would never succeed. 

Crosby. Of course you can't prove it. What you talk is 
of your own fabrication. I am a victim of that gold scheme 
as well as Bard well. I invested money for him. Because 
we were both victimized, and the gold bricks were bogus, 
am I to lose the whole? Out upon such nonsense ! Sheriff, 
perform your duty. 

Gipsy. Go on, old man. You may have invested money, 
but I doubt it. Turn Uncle Nathan and his wife into the 
street if you want to. Laugh at their tears, and gloat over 
their misery. Take the girl and abuse her as you have me until 
she learns to hate you. Do all this, and then retire, and 
sleep the sleep of innocence if you can. I have finished. 
(Folds her arms and leans against well frame . ) 

Crosby. It's well that you have. I will settle with you 
at another time. Sheriff, do as I bade you. (Sheriff 
crosses to door and raps. Belle crosses to Gipsy.) 

Joe {aside to Mike). Do yeez talk in your slape, Moike? 

Mike. Divil a bit do I know, Joe. I niver laid awake to 
see. Begorra ! if I did, I'd niver slape afther this without leap- 
ing one ear open to listen to meself. 

Joe. No more would I, Moike. 

Mrs. B. {opening door). What is wanted? 

Sheriff {bowing low). Aw — weally, Mrs. Bardwell, I 
must take possession of this house in the name of the law. 
A sad duty, but weally necessary, don't you know. 

Mrs. B. (coming down). I shall offer no resistance. 

Crosby. I am sorry, Mrs. Bardwell, to be driven to this 
extreme. 

Mrs. B. Make no excuses, Mr. Crosby. Your own con- 
science is your guide. Bear with Nathan, however, He is 



PLACER GOLD. 63 

excitable and cannot bear trouble as calmly as myself. I 
will sit down here if you please. (Sits on bench.} 

Crosby. Is Nathan in the house, Mrs. Bardwell. 

Mrs. B. He is. Deal gently with him, and if possible, 
persuade him to yield without resistance. 

Sheriff. Aw — no trouble, I assure you. I will not be 
fierce — weally,' I could not, don't you know. {Exit into 
house.} 

Gipsy (to Crosby). Why don't you follow him. Are 
you afraid of Nathan ? 

Crosby. Girl, what do you mean by such language ? 
(Turning toward her.) I've half a mind to wring your 
neck. 

Gipsy. Well, why don't you do it? Won't you com- 
mence now? It will only conform with your actions toward 
Nathan. 

(Noise of furniture falling in house, after which, Sheriff 
rushes out excitedly, and down c.) 

Sheriff (shouting) . Fly ! fly ! He's got a gun ! he's 
got a gun ! 

Uncle N. (appearing with blunderbuss and calmly seat- 
ing himself in doorway) . I — I — I'm ready ter be ejected, 
Crosby. 

Crosby. Bardwell, be careful. You are resisting an offi- 
cer of the law. • 

Mrs. B. Nathan, do submit quietly. Do let us go with- 
out making any trouble. 

Uncle N. Maria, this roof has sheltered me for seventy 
years goin' on, an 1 — an' for fifty years it has sheltered you. It 
is our home. Each spot is as familiar to our eyes as the sun 
which rises an' sets. Now, d'yer think I'm goin' ter desert 
the old place for strangers to desecrate? D'yer think it, 
Maria ? 

Mrs. B. But you signed the note, Nathan, and must ex- 
pect to suffer the consequences. 

Uncle N. I wus influenced — influenced, Maria. (To 
Crosby. ) I — I — I tell ye, Crosby, ye know more about that 
gold scheme than you reveal. The man who defrauds you, 
you follow as a hound follows a fox. Have you followed 
them gold seekers ? H-h-have you ever tried ter bring 'em 
ter justice, Crosby? 



64 PLACER GOLD. 

Crosby. Bardwell, I have no time for idle talk. If you 
refuse to submit willingly, we must resort to force. Sheriff, 
perform your duty. 

Sheriff. Aw — but, Mr. Crosby, he has a gun. A gun 
is a dangerous weapon. It is liable to go off, don't you 
know. 

Crosby. You are employed to take possession of these 
premises. Relieve him of that weapon. 

Sheriff. Aw — but, weally, I must decline. I couldn't 
do it, don't you know. 

Crosby. Do you refuse to act in the capacity of sheriff ? 

Sheriff. Oh, no ; but at present he holds the fort, 
don't you see. Weally, you must use diplomacy, don't you 
know. 

Crosby. You are a coward. {To Mike.) Mike, you 
and Joe get possession of that gun, and I will give you twenty 
dollars. 

Mike. Begorra ! I'll see ye hanged first. If yeez wants 
the gun yeez can go and get it. 

Joe. And I am ov the same moind as Moike. 

Gipsy. You can see where your friends are, father 
Crosby ? 

Crosby {excitedly). Hold your tongue. I'll have that 
gun if I take it myself. Bardwell, what do you mean by this 
obstinacy. 

Uncle N. I am guarding my home against insult and 
robbery. 

Crosby. Robbery? Who is the robber? Did you not 
sign those papers ? Did I not invest my money for you ? 
Who is the robber — eh ? 

Uncle N. I — I have my doubts about your investing 
that money, Crosby. 

Mike {aside). Begorra ! so have I . 

Crosby. Bardwell, will you lay down that gun, or shall I 
take it from you ? 

Mrs. B. Oh, Nathan, for my sake do not cause any 
trouble. I would rather die than have you commit an act 
that we should be sorry for. 

Uncle N. If he wants the gun he must take it, Maria ; 
take it at his ^vn risk. 

Crosby. Anc A I'll assume that risk. Shoot me if you 



PLACER GOLD. 65 

dare. {Musk. Crosby springs forward quickly and seizes 
gun before Bardwell can raise it.^ The women scream, and 
Belle runs to Mrs. Bardwell.) 

Sheriff (running to Crosby's assistance). I'm weally 
sorry to be so fierce, but it is weally necessary, don't you 
know. (Helps Crosby drag Nathan down c.) 

Gipsy. Release him! (Grasps Crosby by shoulder and 
throws him over to l. Slaps Sheriff in the face, who cries, 
" O Lord!" and ntris toward house. Gipsy supports U. 
Nathan. At same time Mike and Joe, both frightened, 
keep each other back. Business.) 

Crosby (angrily) . Curse )-ou ! you hussy, you have gone 
one step too far. (Starts forward. Mike catches him by 
coat-tail and drags him back. Then whirls Joe around be- 
fore Crosby can see who caught him.) Let me alone. 
(Strikes back of him, then starts forward again.) 

Gipsy (pointing pistol). Don't you come too near. 
(Crosby stops.) Your authority relates to the place and not 
to Nathan. Touch him again at your peril. 
(Gipsy stands c, with pistol pointed at Crosby, l. c. Mrs. 

Bardwell supports Nathan, r. c. Belle beside her. 

Sheriff in doorway. Mike and Joe, l. i e.) 
Situations at close. 
Belle. 

Mrs. Bardwell. 
Uncle Nathan. 



Gipsy. 
(House.) Sheriff. 



(Well.) 



Crosby. Joe. 

Mike. 

l. 



TABLEAU CURTAIN. 



SCENE II. — Tarlor in Squire Crosby's house. Room well 

furnished. Archway c. Entrances R. and l. As cur- 

taiu rises, Richard Blynn enters c. Music , 

Blynn (approaching table c). Is no one at home, I 

wonder? No matter. I will content myself until some one 

arrives. (Seats himself at table.) This is the room where 



66 PLACER GOLD. 

Mayhew and myself were hired to work the scheme at Rocky 
Run. Well, many changes have taken place since then. 
(Takes album from table and looks at it.} Through them 
all the face of this girl has ever stood out before me. It may 
not prove that she is my daughter, and yet, stranger things 
have often happened. (Gipsy enters archway unperceived. 
Blynn looks steadily at picture in album.} Heavens! here 
is her picture before me now. (Looks at it closely.} How 
lifelike it looks ; and what a striking resemblance there is 
between the features and those of my wife. Oh ! should she 
prove to be my child, my lost Irene. (At mention of name, 
Gipsy starts.) God only knows the happiness that would 
fill my heart. (Rises to his feel and perceives Gipsy.) Ah ! 

Gipsy (turning to go) . I may be intruding. I will retire. 

Blynn. Stay. It is yourself I have come to see. Do 
not leave me until I have spoken. 

Gipsy. "I have no desire to hold converse with one who 
has been the instrument of ruining those I love. 

Blynn (wincing). Miss Crosby, at heart I may not be 
the villain you imagine. That I have sinned, I cannot deny ; 
but that a man may sin, and afterwards repent, is not a 
thing improbable. 

Gipsy. If you refer to yourself, then undo what you 
have done, and I will believe you. No person is truly 
repentant who refuses to remedy an evil they have once 
committed. 

Blynn. Miss Crosby, I am here for two purposes. To 
remedy the evil you speak of, and to search for a long-lost 
daughter. Will not this avowal command your attention for 
a few moments ? 

Gipsy. Under the circumstances — yes. (Advances to 
table l. Blynn r.) 

Blynn. Thanks. I will be brief as possible. A moment 
ago, I uttered a name which you must have overhead. Is it 
not so? 

Gipsy. It is, sir. The name was " Irene." 

Blynn. That name, Miss Crosby, belongs to one who, 
if living, is the only tie which binds me to earth. Year after 
year have I searched for her without avail. Discouraged 
over my ill-luck — pardon me for my weakness — I fell into 
bad habits. One folly led to another until I was hired to 



PLACER GOLD. 6/ 

work the bogus mine scheme. I met you, and you remem- 
ber our conversation at that time. 

Gipsy. That I bore a striking resemblance to your long- 
lost daughter. 

Blynn. Yes ; and the resemblance was so strong that 
your face has haunted me ever since. The bare fact of your 
being a waif, found by the wayside, has strengthened this 
belief; but without some recollection on your part relating 
to your early life, how am I to ever prove that you are the 
daughter for whom I seek ? 

Gipsy. My knowledge of the past is extremely vague. 
At times, however, some incidents relating to my infancy 
seem to rise up before me, and I almost imagine them to be 
real. I frequently dream of a strange people, and of being 
in their possession. The name you mentioned bears a 
charm for me. It relates to something far away — some- 
thing I cannot understand — something too indistinct to be 
real. When you uttered it, I started ; my memory seemed 
to awaken ; the past came up before me ; and something, 
something I cannot fathom, connected that name with 
another. 

Blynn {excited) . The other name ; can you not remem- 
ber it ? 

Gipsy. I could never recall it. At times, and frequently, 
too, it has trembled upon my lips, yet refused to be uttered. 
(Thinking.) It almost seems as if I could speak it now. 
(Looking away abstractedly .) A name so soft and tender, 
and so simple, that — that — Wait! does not the name 
begin with L ? 

Blynn {leaning toward her, excited). Go on — go on. 
'Tis the initial letter — the first letter of her name. 

Gipsy {thoughtfully). L — L — 

Blynn. Goon. You must speak it. You — 

Gipsy (quickly). Wait! you have spoken it. <<U" is 
the next letter. 

Blynn. L — U ? 

Gipsy. Yes ; Lulu Irene. 

Blynn. The name of my wife, and the one given to our 
daughter. 

Gipsy. Have you any proof by which you can claim me 
as such ? 



68 PLACER GOLD. 

Blynn. Alas! no. 

Gipsy. Is there no mark, or character? 

Blynn. Stop ! there was a mark, in India ink, pricked 
into the arm near the wrist. It was a letter. 

Gipsy {excitedly). And the letter? 

Blynn. Was L ! the first initial of her name. 

Gipsy {showing mark) . Look at the letter. 

Blynn {examining the letter) . The very same. I should 
know it among a thousand. Time has not erased it or 
caused it to fade. You are my daughter, my long-lost child, 
stolen by gypsies when but a babe, and over whose loss my 
wife went broken-hearted to the grave. Oh, my child, 
acknowledge me as your father! {Starts to embrace her.) 

Gipsy {motioning him back) . Wait ! thankful though I 
am to find a father, I have found one whose soul is stained 
with crime. When I see that stain removed, then will 
Gipsy, or Lulu Irene, embrace you as a daughter. 

Blynn. You shall witness my repentance before the 
rising of another sun. When I left this place, one year ago, 
you was not forgotten. For the first time the money I had 
earned burned in my pockets. We went to the mines ; that 
is, Mayhew and myself, and joined two others who had been 
successful in striking a claim. We worked together. One 
day an accident happened by which Mayhew and one other 
lost their lives. When dying, Mayhew mentioned your 
name, and it worked like magic upon the man who was 
spared. He grasped my arm and demanded to know where 
my friend had learned it. 

Gipsy. And you told him ? 

Blynn. Not then. When the last sod had covered the 
remains of our companions, and all had departed, we 
remained at the grave and told each other our life histories ; 
and that miner and God alone know that Richard Blynn is 
a reformed man. 

Gipsy. But the miner; what of him? For years I have 
been true to one who went to the mines, and whom I still 
love as devotedly as when he left me. Oh, tell me his name. 

Ned {rushing in c). Ned Bardwell, son of Nathan 
Bardwell, a true scion of old New England. Gip, my girl, 
come to my arms. 

Gipsy {throwing herself into his arms). Oh, Ned, have 
you come back? 



PLACER GOLD. 69 

Ned. It looks like it, don't it ? Feel of me and see. 
Oh, Pm the real article, only in the rough. Shave me, and 
I shall come out as smooth as a horse chestnut. {Kissing 
her.) Gip, I could hug you all day; but I musn't. Blynn 
and myself have a work to perform, and must be about it. 
When it is completed, there will be more real happiness 
around here than this place has known for years. So now, 
Gip, to business first, and love afterwards. (Releasing her.) 
Where's Crosby? 

Gipsy. Oh, Ned ! he is cross as a bear. 

Ned. Well, trot him in and we will take it out of him. 
Oh; we know what has transpired to-day. How? Well, 
we witnessed it at a distance. Why didn't we interfere? 
Because we had other fish to fry first ; and when they are 
fried — Never mind ; you tell Crosby he is wanted. 

Gipsy. All right, Ned. You make Squire Crosby reform, 
and reinstate Uncle Nathan in his old home, and I'll return 
your coat-tail, and turn a dozen hand-springs besides. That 
is, I would if I wasn't a girl. (Runs out l. i e.) 

Ned. So, Blynn, you have proven to your own satisfac- 
tion that Gipsy is your daughter. 

Blynn (r. c). Yes, beyond a doubt. 

Ned. Well, Blynn, I love that girl myself. Now must I 
ask you, as her father, for her hand, or must I take her and 
elope ? 

Blynn. Ned, you two are worthy of each other. I shall 
be pleased to see her united to so honorable a man. 

Ned. Look here, old boy, that's putting it on too thick. 
I'll try and deserve it, though, "Hang me if I don't!" as 
father used to say. Here they come. 

(Enter Gipsy, Belle and Crosby l. i e.) 

Crosby. What are you here for — eh? 

Blynn. I have come to purchase the farm belonging to 
Nathan Bard well. 

Crosby. Well, you can't do it. So now, go. 

Blynn. Can it not be purchased at double its value ? 

Crosby. No. Cover it with bank bills and you can't 
have it. If that is all you want you have my answer. You 
can retire. (7 urns to exit.) 

Blynn. Wait ! if I cannot .purchase the farm, I may take 
the liberty to demand it. 



JO PLACER GOLD. 

Crosby (quickly turning back}. What! demand the 
farm ? You can't do it. Til denounce you as a rascal. 

Blynn. And Til own that I am one. More than this, 
I'll show you to be the greater one, and prove it. 

Crosby. You can't do it. You haven't a scratch to show 
a thing. Who's this man with you? 

Ned. I'm a lawyer. Be careful what you say, or it may 
go hard with you. 

Crosby. I'll say what I please. Leave the house, both 
of you. 

Blynn. Crosby, we will not waste words. You never 
invested a dollar on that Bardwell note excepting the two 
thousand paid us to work the gold mine scheme. That 
money I now return. Here it is. (Throws ?noney upon 
table. ) Now I command you to yield up that mortgage, and 
return Nathan Bardwell to his farm. 

Crosby. Ha! I'll never do it. What can you prove — 
eh ? Show your papers — Bring on your proof. 

Blynn. Call them in. Time is precious. 

Ned (goes c, and shouts'). Here you, Tom, Dick and 
Harry, come in here ; you are wanted. 

(Enter Mike and Joe from c. At sight of them Crosby 
starts.) 

Crosby (agitated) . Ha ! you here ? Be careful what 
you do or say. 

Mike. We've turned states evidence, your Honor. 
Begorra ! yeez had betther do the same thing. 

Joe. And yeez will feel happier, loike meself — 

Mike. And rest swater at night; an 1 not have bad 
dhrames — 

Joe. Or talk in your slape, and reveal your sacrets — 

Mike. And make people think you've got the tic-dol-er- 
roust. 

Blynn. You see, Crosby, the odds are against you. 
Yield up the farm peaceably, and not compel us to resort to 
the law. 

Crosby (who has tottered back and sunk into a chair). 
The whole world conspires against me. My friends, even, 
prove to be my worst enemies. Do I not know you as a 
villain? Can I not show you up as a swindler, a cheat and a 
fraud ? 



PLACER GOLD. 7 1 

Blynn. Can I not do the same with you ? Yield up that 
farm, Crosby, and save trouble. I advise you to do it. 

Mike. As a gintleman, Til advise the same thing. 

Joe. As the protector ov tin children — 

Mike. Nine, Joe, nine. 

Crosby. I won't. Fve schemed for years to get that 
farm, and Fve got it. Now Fll hold it in spite of the devil. 

Ned. Crosby, look me in the face and see if you know 
me. 

Crosby. I should know you for a villain at first sight. 

Ned. Ah — yes. Thanks for the compliment. As the 
nature of my villainy may not be understood, I will explain. 
I am Ned Bard well, son of Nathan Bardwell, and brother to 
the husband of your daughter. As a relative by marriage to 
your family, and a son protecting the rights of his father, I 
demand those papers. 

Crosby {staring at Ned) . You — you Ned Bardwell ? 

Ned. I am. Answer quick, old man ; will you give up 
that farm, or shall I resort to the law? 

Blynn. Crosby, choose the better course. I have sinned 
and repented. I have proven this girl to be my daughter. 
This knowledge, and my repentance, makes me a happy 
man. ' Take the same course, Crosby. Give Nathan back 
his farm, and we will keep all secrets, and believe me, you 
will retire to-night a happier man. 

Crosby {meekly}. Gipsy your daughter? Not content 
with the farm, do you intend to rob me of her also? 

Gipsy. Ned, you and the rest retire for a time. I would 
speak with father Crosby alone. 

Ned. All right Gip. I will leave you to accomplish what 
a regiment of soldiers would fail to do. 

Mike {aside to Ned). Begorra ! if she don't conquer 
him she has changed moightily since she conquered you. 
{They all retire c.) 

Gipsy {kneeling at Crosby's/^/). Father Crosby, you 
said a moment ago that the whole world conspired against 
you. Do you know the reason why? 

Crosby. Because the world is a fraud. People are fools. 
If a man schemes for money he is hated. I am hated. 
Were I to die to-day, who would mourn, who would feel for 
me a thrill of compassion ? 



72 PLACER GOLD. 

Gipsy. Did you ever take into consideration that the 
fault might be your own ? 

Crosby. No ; I've no time to think. I've got money, 
and the people hate me for it. IVe not a relative on earth 
but wishes me dead, that they may grasp it. But I'll cheat 
them — I'll cheat them. 

Gipsy. Did I ever hate you, father Crosby, until you 
drove me to it? 

Crosby. You turned against me to-day. Even now you 
intend to desert me for a father you never knew, and who 
never so much as gave you parental shelter. 

Gipsy. Have I said I was going to desert you? 
Crosby. No ; but you show it in your actions. You 
conspire against me. They intend to steal back that farm, 
and you join them in that. 

Gipsy. Father Crosby, which had you rather have me : 
a wicked, dissolute woman, full of intrigue and deceit, or 
one who is honest and upright, and above reproach ? What 
would you do if I were the first ? 

Crosby. Turn you out of the house. 

Gipsy. Supposing I had said to you : « ' Let us rob 
Nathan Bard well of his form. No matter how, only that we 
may get it, and turn him into the street." Had I said this, 
what would you have thought of me ? 

Crosby {uneasily}. You are a woman. You would have 
been out of place. 

Gipsy. What is honorable for a man to do, in the sight 
of God, is honorable for woman. You know, father Crosby, 
that you have defrauded Uncle Nathan. You know that it 
was right for me to resent it. Because I did so, you 
charge me with being your enemy. 

Crosby. Would you not anyway? Is it not natural for 
you to hate me ? 

Gipsy. No. Years ago I loved you with all the intensity 
of a child. Even down to the death of your wife you was 
kind to me. But during the past few years you have scarcely 
spoken a kind word. Every glance is a frown and every 
sentence a curse. If I do not love you it is because you 
won't let me. 

Belle (r. i e.). Once I tried to kiss you and you 
slapped my face. Grandpa Bard well never did that. 



PLACER GOLD. 73 

Gipsy. I tell you, father Crosby, if you want to be re- 
spected, you must respect others. Friendship is made, not 
bought. Gold is a sordid metal and worth only its face 
value. It may furnish you comforts ; but it can never smooth 
your dying pillow, or give you happiness in another world. 
One little act on your part would bring you both friendship 
and respect ; and believe me, it would lead you to respect 
yourself. 

Crosby. It is well enough to talk. Talking is easy. 
Preaching is all right in its place. The next thing is to 
carry it out. How is it possible, eh? 

Gipsy. By showing to the world that you intend to do 
right. Give Nathan back his farm. You have money 
enough without it. 

Crosby. What ! give it up of my own free will ? I could 
never do it, never. 

Gipsy. Father Crosby, do you remember the words writ- 
ten in the family Bible by the hand of your wife before she 
died? 

Crosby. No ; I have not opened the Bible for years. 

Gipsy. Let me read them to you. (Brings Bible from 
table, opens it, and places it across his lap. Kneels r. of him. 
Belle remains l.) Here are the words written on the page 
opposite the family record : < ' When I die, do not forget that 
I once lived, and loved you with a wife's devotion. For my 
sake, do not idolize wealth, but use it for good purposes, and 
to make others happy. Use your neighbors as you would 
have them use you, and love and protect the little waif in 
your charge. Serve your God faithfully, and meet me in that 
better world." Signed, " Your loving wife, Nellie." Have 
you followed her advice, father Crosby ? 

Crosby (in a broken voice). Gipsy, you are awakening 
memories I would forget. I do not want to think of myself; 
when I do, it angers me. I have no love for myself. When 
I stop to think, I would forget myself — forget everything. 

Gipsy. Then do those things which to dwell upon 
would give you pleasure. Close this day with an act that 
will elevate you in your own estimation. Join with us in 
making this a night of rejoicing. Will you not, father 
Crosby? 

Belle (throwi?ig her arms around his neck). Oh, do; 



74 PLACER GOLD. 

and I'll love you like grandpa Bardwell. And — and I'll kiss 
you, too, 

Crosby. Could you love an old wretch as I am, child? 

Belle. Well, I could try. You would never let me, you 
know. Won't you let me love you now? 

Crosby {disengaging her arifi from his ?ieck, he rises agi- 
tated and turns L. i E. Gipsy returns Bible to table). If 
you can, child. {Aside.) Confusion ! what did I say? 

Belle (going to him). And won't you love me, too, just 
as you did mamma years ago ? 

Crosby (aside\ . Ha ! she spoke of my daughter ; and 
how* like her she is herself. I had not thought of it before. 
(Aloud. ) Yes, child ; in fact, I think I have right along. 

Belle. Oh ! I'm so glad ; and won't you let grandpa 
Bardwell go back to his home, and like him, too ? 

Crosby (aside) . Ahem ! that's asking considerable ; but 
were my wife alive, I believe she would sanction it. 
(Aloud.) Yes, child, I'll do it! I'll do it! (Aside.) I 
feel better already. 

Belle. Oh ! thank you. Grandpa Crosby, I'll kiss you 
now. (Kisses him. Crosby wipes his eyes with ha7idkerchief. 

Crosby (aside). I thought I was hardened — case- 
hardened ; but I am not. 

Gipsy (approaching and placing her hand upon his 
shoulder). Shall I call them in, father Crosby? 

Crosby. Have your own way, girl. (Aside.) I am 
sure my wife would sanction it. (Gipsy goes c.) 

Belle. I've got two grandpas to love now, and Uncle 
Ned. Odear! I wish he would shave his face. He almost 
frightened me. Didn't he you? 

Crosby. He did at first, child ; but I hardly think he 
can, now. In fact, I am sure he can't. 

Belle. Well, Gipsy wasn't afraid of him, so I won't be. 
He don't know me ; but when he comes in, I'm going right 
up and speak to him. 

(Enter c, Gipsy, Ned, Blynn, Mike and Joe.) 

Belle (running up to Ned). Hello ! Uncle Ned ! 

Ned (holding her off and looking at her) . Bless me ! 
who are you ? 

Belle. Oh, I'm Belle. Didn't you know that ? I know 
you 'cause Gipsy told me. You like her, too, don't you? 



PLACER GOLD. 75 

You want to like grandpa Crosby, too ; 'cause — 'cause he's 
better now. 

Ned {taking her up and kissing her) . And you are my 
little niece. Well, well, I'm proud to know it. I am a friend 
to any man, little girl, who is square and honest. 

Mike. Begorra ! so am I ; and if it's reforming he is, I'll 
stick by him loike a nail to a plank. 

Joe. I'm ov the same moind as Moike. 

Blynn. Crosby, if what I understand is true, I extend to 
you the right hand of fellowship. {Offers hand.) 

Crosby {taking his hand). And I accept it. I may be 
sorry; but time will tell. My memory has been awakened. 
I have no excuses to make — I hate excuses. I see things 
differently — that is all. Bard well, here is that note. 
Destroy it. {Gives up papers.) There! a burden is off 
my mind already. 

Mike. Och ! when I gave up that hundred dollars I felt 
just the same way. 

Joe. I felt just the same as Moike. 

Gipsy. * Now I propose that we give Uncle Nathan a 
surprise to-night, and let it be an occasion for uniting us all 
together. 

Blynn. Do it, Crosby, and I'll help y ou. And if we are 
not happier than in plotting against him, then I'm no 
believer in repentance. 

Crosby. I am at your disposal. 

Ned. Don't start a new blast until I dispose of the old. 
{Tears the mortgage in two.) There! now go ahead. 

Belle. Wait! let me take them. {Takes papers.) 
Grandpa Bardwell signed those papers on my head, and they 
was a fraud. Everything that is a fraud should be served 
like this. {Throws papers upon floor, c, and Jumps upon 
them as air tain falls .) 

Situations at close. 
Joe. 
Mike. Ned. 

Crosby. 
Blynn. Belle. Gipsy. 

TABLEAU CURTAIN. 



y6 PLACER GOLD. 



SCENE III. — Nathan Bardwell's dooryard same as in 
other Acts. Household furniture piled up R. c. The 
motto "Welcome Home" in large letters, tastefully 
arranged, and so constructed as to be illuminated when 
necessary, is hung suspended c. Flowers, vines, etc. , hung 
around the house in profusion. Crosby and Belle 
seated on bench r. c. Blynn seated on doorstep. Ned 
and Gipsy leaning against frame of well. Mike and Joe 
l. i e. Time — evening. Curtain rises to music and 
song by company. 

Mike {after song is finished} . Shure do you know there 
is some moighty quare things in this wurld I don't quite 
understand ? 

Gipsy. Why, Mike, I supposed you knew everything. 
If there is something you don't know, what is it ? 

Mike. Well, I don't understand why a turkey gobbler 
turns up his nose at a red shawl. Thin there is a four- 
footed baste as does the same thing. Have you an explan- 
ation, acushla? 

Gipsy {laughing). Why, no; what made you think of 
that? 

Mike. The soight of yourself rigged out in so much red 
finery. Do ye know, the thought struck me all ov a suddint, 
loike an inspiration ? 

Joe. I was struck wid a thought, jhust the same as Moike. 

Gipsy. Well, what is your thought, Joe? 

Joe. I don't understand why suckers brade faster than 
trout. Did yeez ever think ov that ? Be jabers ! the good 
things ov this wourld are hard to get, while thim things that 
are poor swarm loike mosquitoes in spring. There's some- 
thing quare about it. 

Ned. I should say so. People are queer, too. I knew 
of a man at the mines who grumbled because he had to dig 
through ten feet of solid silver before he struck gold. The 
time and labor wasted nigh ruined him. 

Blynn. Hold on, Ned. That is the first lie you have 
uttered since you returned. 

Mike. Begorra ! I dont doubt him in the laste. He 
was only a quare man — loike the story. Now the quarest 
man I iver saw lived at the Cape. In order to fish he had to 



PLACER GOLD. JJ 

walk five miles into the counthry after bait ; an 1 ivery toime 
he went, he carried a sap-yoke, two pails, an' a twinty-pound 
shtone to balance the twinty pounds ov bait on his way back. 
Now I call that a moighty quare proceeding. 

Gipsy. Why didn't he get the stone where he got the 
bait ? Then what balanced the stone on the way out ? 

Mike. Och! that is the quare part ov it, acushla. 

Ned {laughing). Mike, I throw up the sponge. You 
can lie faster than I can. The strangest thing to me, how- 
ever, is to see ourselves situated as we are at present. It 
almost places me back to childhood. 

Gipsy. When you was the hector of the family. Well, 
let's change the subject. Are you sure Uncle Nathan will be 
here? 

Ned. Certainly. I sent a boy over to the poor-house to 
listen to their conversation, and he heard them plan to be 
here at nine o'clock. It is now after eight. They wanted 
to bid the old farm good-by, they said, when no one was 
around to molest them. Learning their plans saved making 
an excuse to draw them here. Do you know I can hardly 
wait to clasp that dear old mother to my heart ? 

Belle. And I want to see grandma and grandpa Bard- 
well. Don't you, grandpa Crosby? 

Crosby. Well — ahem — yes; after I have seen them, I 
think I shall want to. 

Gipsy. What do you intend to do now, Ned ? 

Ned. We will go into the house, draw the curtains close, 
and keep watch. When they are well into the yard, we will 
laugh, and sing, and make them think the place is in the 
hands of strangers. Then, at last, we will open the door, 
give them a happy surprise, illuminate the letters, aad all 
make merry together. 

Gipsy. It will be just splendid. Come ! let us go in. 

Ned. Exactly! Blynn, open the way. 

Blynn. All right. {Opens door and enters, followed by 
the others.} 

Belle. Come, grandpa. {They enter house.) 

Mike. Joe, we are the tail end ov the heap. We bring 
in the rear. 

Joe. Be jabers, we always did. {They enter cottage.') 
(Matilda enters c.) 



yS PLACER GOLD. 

Matilda. If they think they can keep me out of their 
little game, let them try it. I found it all out if Mike didn't 
tell me. Oh, that deceitful man, not to tell me he was 
coming here! I'll pay him for it, though. {Looking into 
window.} Yes, they are in there. I can hear them if I 
can't see them ; and Mike is with them. {Goes and pounds 
on door.} Let me in. 

Mike {slightly opening door and looking out}. Who 
moight ye be? 

Matilda. Let me in, or you'll find out. 

Mike. Oh, the divil ! 

Matilda {pushing door open}. Let me in, I say. 
{Enters house and closes door.} 

{Music. Enter slowly, Uncle Nathan and Maria, c.) 

Uncle N. Here we are — here we are, Maria, creepin' 
up ter our old home like two thieves in the night. It don't 
seem right, it — it don't seem nat'ral, Maria. 

Mrs. B. We have this to comfort us, Nathan. We are 
not two thieves, but honest people. We come here to mourn, 
and not to steal. Let us be cheerful then, and it will make 
our burden much lighter to bear. 

Uncle N. You are right — you are right, as you always 
are ; but it don't bring back the old home, it — it don't give 
it back to us, Maria. 

Mrs. B. No ; but we can gaze at it here in the shadows, 
and that is better than nothing. 

Uncle N. {coming down front with Maria). Indeed it is 
— indeed it is ; but ter look at that door, an' know it is 
barred against us ; that door which has opened ter my father's 
family an' mine ; an' ter feel that I am responsible for it — 
it makes me curse the hand that signed those papers, an' 
wish I wus not a Bardwell. 

Mrs. B. O Nathan ! don't say that. Men better versed 
in business than yourself have made mistakes ; and many 
having once lost, and in spite of adversities, have started 
anew, and prospered, and been happy afterwards. 

Uncle N. Yes, yes; but they wasn't crippled ; they — 
they wasn't incapable ; they wasn't as old an' shattered as I 
am, Maria. 

Mrs. B. No ; but if we, in our old age, with everything 
against us, could brave this great trouble, would it not be 



PLACER GOLD. 79 

more to our credit? If I, as the weaker vessel, can do this, 
should you not assist me? 

Uncle N. You talk wisdom — you talk wisdom, Maria. 
You can reason better than I kin, an' with sounder judgment. 
1 murmur too much, I admit it. Yes, yes ; I've much ter be 
thankful for. Here is the old bench, Maria. Here it is just 
as we left it, an' — an' it will not refuse us a seat. {They sit 
on bench looking around.} It may be in my eyes, but things 
look different ter me somehow. Have you noticed it, 
Maria? 

Mrs. B. I see no change, Nathan, only in the furniture. 
You must look after that to-morrow. 

Uncle N. Yes ; I must move it away. The old family 
portraits — can you see them, Maria? {Rises and examines 
furniture. } 

Mrs. B. {assisting Nathan). I can hardly tell in the 
shadows ; but I don't think they have been molested. 

Uncle N. Oh! but they will be — they will be. It 
seems hard ; but they will be torn from the walls. They — 
they will be cast out, like us. {Sound of laughter within.} 
Hark! hark! {Grasps Mrs. Bardwell's arm excitedly.} 
Did you hear that — did you hear that, Maria. 

Mrs. B. Yes, I heard it 

Uncle N. What was it? What did it sound like? 

Mrs. B. It sounds like laughter, Nathan. 

Uncle N. {laughter repeated, mingled with singing}. 
There it is again ! {Excited.} B-b-by John Rogers! I 
can't stand that! I can't stand that, Maria. {Starting 
toward house. } 

Mrs. B. {catching hold of him}. Come back, Nathan. 
What would you do ? 

Uncle N. I'm goin' in, Maria. They shan't revel in 
those rooms till I'm done with 'em. They shan't do it, I 
say. 

Mrs. B. Nathan, come back. You must come back. 
This place is not yours now. Come, let us depart. 

Uncle N. I can't. I — I — I can't do it, Maria. I'm 
glued ter the spot. Makin' merry in there is like makin' 
merry over a new-made grave, an' — an' I hate it. They 
have no hearts, no feelin', no sense of compassion, an' I'll 
tell 'em of it. I'll tell 'em of it. {Starts forward again.} 



80 PLACER GOLD. 

Mrs. B. Nathan, you shall come back. {Drags him 
back.) Don't, for mercy sakes ! spoil your good resolutions. 
If you love me, come away at once. Hark ! they are singing. 
{Both listen.) 

{Song : ' ' We won't go home till morning ! " is heard. At 
close shouts and laughter.) 

Uncle N. {turning dejectedly away) . That's too much — 
too much. I — I kin stand anything; but that's too much. 
Come, Maria, I — Til go. The last link that binds me to 
the old home is broken, an' — an' I am ready tergo. {They 
move slowly down stage toward c. Soft music.) 

Gipsy {opening door). Uncle Nathan! 

Uncle N. {turning and looking at Gipsy in amazement) . 
You — you among 'em, Gipsy? I — I — 

Gipsy {advancing). Oh, Uncle Nathan — 

Uncle N. {motioning her back with his cane). Go back ! 
go back ! I — I — I don't want ye ! 

Gipsy {laughing). You don't understand, Uncle Nathan. 
We've got a happy surprise in store for you. Now guess 
what it is ? 

Uncle N. {still staring at her) . I — I — I — 

Mrs. B. {grasping his arm). Nathan, there is something 
back of this. Don't you see it? 

Uncle N. {dubiously). I — I don't see nuthin', Maria. 

Gipsy {laughing). Don't you smell a mice, Uncle 
Nathan ? 

Mike {emerging from the house, followed by Joe, Belle, 
Matilda, Crosby and Blynn) . Arrah ! Mr. Bardwell ! 
it's meself has the honor to welcome yeez back to your old 
home with all the graces possible. {Advances, makes grand 
bow, and crosses l.) 

Joe. An' it's meself what feels jhust the same as Moike ; 
an' I'll hire to yeez for the same ould wages, an' begin work 
to-morrow. {Follows example #/"Mike, and crosses l.) 

(Nathan stares first at one and then the other without re- 
plying.) 

Belle {running up to him). Oh, grandpa ! don't look so 
funny. Don't you know what this means ? Well, I'll tell 
you. Grandpa Crosby is good now. He's given you back 
the farm, and you must like him, you know, and — 



PLACER GOLD. 8 I 

Uncle N. {straggling to speak) . Er — er — wait ! Given 
me back the farm, did ye say? 

Belle. Yes; and — 

Crosby (advancing'). Bardwell, let me explain. In the 
past, we were farmers living side by side, and enjoying the 
friendship of each other. 

Uncle N. In the past, Crosby, in the past. 

Crosby. In time my daughter and your son were united 
in wedlock, thus forging a chain that should have linked us 
together in unity through life. 

Uncle N. But it didn't, Crosby, it didn't. 

Crosby. Our children died. Then, in an evil hour, my 
thirst for gain led me to forget my sense of honor, and I 
planned a scheme that left you ruined and adrift upon the 
world. 

Uncle N. I — I — I've realized it — sensibly realized it. 

Crosby (forcibly) . Nathan Bardwell, memories long slum- 
bering in my bosom have been suddenly awakened, To-night 
I am the reverse of the man you saw to-day. The change is 
sudden ; but no matter. He who tore this farm from you as 
ruthlessly as a savage would tear a child from its mother's 
arms, returns it to you to-night, free and unincumbered, and 
humbly asks your pardon. 

Blynn (approaching). And I, Richard Blynn, his accom- 
plice, place myself in the same humble position. 

Uncle N. (doubtingly) . .You give back my farm — this 
house — give it all back ? 

Crosby. I do, Nathan. Already the mortgage is de- 
stroyed. 

Uncle N. I — I — 

Belle. You will forgive him, won't you? 

Uncle N. (passing his hand across his forehead). 
I — I must be dreaming, Belle. 

Gipsy (r. c. back). No, Uncle Nathan, it is no dream. 
The farm is yours, just as they have said. 

Belle. And you will forgive them, won't you? 

Uncle N. Why, Belle, I — I don't quite understand it 
all ; but if this is real ; if — if they are not deceiving me, there 
is no forgiveness to ask. Lord bless ye ! they have it with- 
out asking. (Crosby and Blynn shake hands with him.) 

Mike (shouting and throwing up his cap). Hurrah ! hur- 
rah ! for Nathan Bardwell, and — the Continental Congress. 



82 PLACER GOLD. 

M E e \ ^ to S ether )' Hurrah ! hurrah ! 

Matilda (crossing over from ccttage to l.). I can't see 
the use of making a fuss over nothing. 

Mrs. B. Nathan, the Lord never forgets his own. He 
has blessed us tenfold, and we should return Him thanks. 

Uncle N. We sartin should — we sartin should; but I 
don't quite realize it, Maria. What ! the old farm ours once 
more — returned — given back to us ? I — I — I don't quite 
see — 

Gipsy {laughing'). How things have so suddenly reversed. 
Well, this is a queer world, you know. To-morrow you shall 
have a full explanation. But tell me : arn't you happy to 
know that the old place is yours once more ? 

Uncle N. Happy — happy, Gipsy? I — I guess 1 am. 
I can't express myself; I — I can't do it. I've jumped from 
darkness into sech bright light, that I'm dazzled — I — I'm 
dazzled, Gipsy. 

Gipsy. Is there any other surprise that could render you 
more pleasure than this? 

Uncle N. No, Gipsy ; no other surprise could ekal it. 
No other surprise under Heaven. 

Mrs. B. Hold, Nathan ; would not the return of our boy 
give us greater delight? 

Uncle N. Maria, that boy is dead ter us. He deserted 
us — left us in our old age, an' is lost to us forever. 

Gipsy. But if he should come back? 

Uncle N. He never will, Gipsy. He is either dead, or 
swallowed up in the vortex of the great world, an' — an' his 
parents are forgotten. He'll never come back, Gipsy. 

Gipsy. But if he should, wouldn't you welcome him with 
gladness? 

Uncle N. Gladness — gladness, Gipsy? Lord bless ye! 
could anything ekal the pleasure of a lost child being returned 
ter his parents ? Return me my boy, Gipsy, an' — an' I'll be 
the happiest man on earth. 

Gipsy. Then prepare yourself for a second surprise ; and 
you, too, Mrs. Bardwell : for Ned, your long-lost boy, is here. 

Uncle N. (in great surprise). Here? 

Ned (rushing out from cottage. Chord). Father! 
Mother ! 



PLACER GOLD. 8$ 

Mrs. B. (throwing her arms around his neck} . Oh, Ned! 
my boy ! my boy ! 

Uncle N. (staggers front and sinks down upon block). 
Ned — here ? 

Ned. Yes, father ; Ned, your truant son, is home again 
to gladden your heart and comfort your old age. 

Uncle N. (brokenly, and looking at him fixedly). Ned ! 

Ned. Father, you are in doubt; but a mother can tell 
her son under all circumstances. To-morrow, in a better 
light, and with my whiskers removed, you will recognize in 
me the boy who so foolishly deserted you. 

Mike. Oh ! it's him, your Honor, shure enough. 

Matilda. Hold your tongue ! 

Uncle N. Ned, my boy, returned? Are — are you doing 
this ter try me ? Are you my boy, an' alive ? 

Ned (approaching his father and taking his hand) . Father, 
I'm the real article. There's no dross about me. I'm all 
here. 

Uncle N. (rising to his feet and feeling him over) . Yes, 
yes, you are; you're no shadder ! (Excited.) Maria! it's 
him ! It's our boy ! B-b-y John Rogers ! its our boy ! 

Mrs. B. (approaching Ned). I knew him, Nathan. 

Belle. And he's been here all day. 

Uncle N. Maria, I'm young again ; I — I — I'm put back 
twenty years in life. I could dance an' sing — (Crosses to 
Crosby, r.) Crosby, give me your hand. I — I — I forgive 
ye. (Grasping Blynn's hand.) Blynn, I — I — I forgive 
ye. I forgive everybody — everybody, I say. I love ye all! 
Lord bless ye ! I forgive ye all ! 

Gipsy (crossing to Blynn, r.). Now will I acknowledge 
you as my father, and salute you as such. (Kisses him.) 

Belle. And Belle will acknowledge her two grandpas and 
love one like the other. (Takes their hands and stands 
between them, c, Blynn and Gipsy, r., Mrs. Bardwell 
and Ned, r. c, back.) 

Crosby. And with God's blessing you shall have no rea- 
son to do otherwise. 

Gipsy. Oh, Ned ! I forgot. I have a present for you. 
You may need it. (Takes coat-tail from her pocket and gives 
him.) 

Ned. (taking it and laughing) . Ha ! ha ! ha ! the identi- 



84 PLACER GOLD. 

cal coat-tail, by Jove ! Thank you, Gip. That was the 
worst tear I ever had, and you was the cause of it. For your 
sake I will keep it. Mike, illuminate the letters. 

(Mike draws back screen, showing the motto «« Welcome 

Home V illuminated. ) 
Uncle N. Look ! look ! Maria ; do you see that? (Point- 
ing to motto S) 

Mrs. B. I do, Nathan ; and to me they are significant of 
two meanings. 

Uncle N. They are — they are, Maria. They welcome 
us home ter the old farm again, an 1 — an 1 they welcome home 
our long-lost boy to his parents 1 arms. 

Gipsy. And closes the sequel to Placer Gold, or, how 
Uncle Nathan lost his farm. 

Belle. 
Uncle Nathan. Crosby. 

Mrs. Bardwell. 

Ned. 
Gipsy. Joe. 

Blynn. Mike. 

CURTAIN. 



TWO NEW COMEDIES 

By the Author of "A RICE PUDDING." 

M A utograph 1 etter 

By ESTHER B. TIFFANY, 

The author of "Anita's Trial," "Young Mr. Pritchard,' 
"That Patrick," etc. 



Price, 



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By the Same Author. 

Price, ------ ~ 15 cents. 

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A FARCICAL COMEDY IN TWO ACTS. 

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Price, .-.».-. 15 cents. 



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Price, ------- 15 cents. 

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ANOTHER GLASS. A Drama in 1 Act. 

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THE DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT. 

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A DOUBTFUL VICTORY. A Comedy in 

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DUNDUCKETTY'S PICNIC. A Farce in 1 

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EAST LYNNE. A Drama in 5 Acts. 8 

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2 male. 2 female char. 

THE HIDDEN HAND. A Drama in 5 Acts. 

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HIT HIM, HE HAS NO FRIENDS. A 

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TVE WRITTEN TO BROWNE. A Farce 

in 1 Act. ByT. J. Williams. 4 male, 3 female char. 

JOHN DOBBS. A Farce in 1 Act. By 

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JOHN W0PP3. A Farce in 1 Act. By 

W. E. Suter. 4 male, 2 female char. 

THE LOST CHILDREN. A Musical En- 
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LOOK AFTER BROWN. A Farce in 1 Act. 

By George A. Stuurt, M.D. 6 male, 1 femal3 char. 

LOST IN LONDON. A Drama in 3 Acts. 

6 male, 4 female char. 



LYING WILL OUT. A Comedy in 4 Acts. 

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MADAM IS ABED. A Vaudeville in 1 Act. 

2 male, 2 female char. 

MARY MOO ; or, Which Shall I Marry? 

A Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 2 male, 1 fern. 

MONSEIGNEUR. A Drama in 2 Acts. By 

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MY PRE CIOUS BETSY. A Farce in 1 Act. 

By J. M. Morton. 4 male, 4 female char. 

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NONE SO DEAF AS THOSE WHO WON'T 

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OLD HONESTY. A Comic Drama in 2 

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ONLY A CLOD. A Comic Drama in 1 Act. 

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PAYABLE ON DEMAND. A Domestio 

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THE PHANTOM BREAKFAST. A Farce 

in 1 Act. By Chas. Selby. 3 male, 2 female char. 

FUTKINS; Heir to Castles in the Air. 

A Comic Drama in 1 Act. By W. R. Emerson. 2 
male, 2 female char. 

THE QUEEN'S HEART. A Comedy in 3 

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A RACE FOR A WIDOW- A Farce in 1 

Act. By T. J. Williams. 5 male, 4 female char. 

SARAH'S YOUNG MAN. A Farce in 1 

Act. Bv W. E. Suter. 3 male, 3 female char. 

THE SCARLET LETTER. A Drama in 3 

Acts. 8 male, 7 female char. 

SILVERSTONE'S WAGER. A Comedi- 
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A SLICE OF LUCK. A Farce in 1 Act. 

By J. M. Morton. 4 male, 2 female char. 

SMASHINGTON GOIT. A Farce in 1 Act. 

T. J. Williams. 5 male, 3 female char. 

OLDIER, A SAILOR, A TINKER, 

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SUNSHINE THROUGH THE CLOUDS. 

A Drama in 1 Act. By Slinggby Lawrence. 8 male, 

3 female char. 

TRUE UNTO DEATH. A Drama in 2 Acts. 

By J. Sheridan Knowles. 6 male. 2 female char. 

THE TURKISH BATH. A Farce in 1 Act. 

By Montague Williams and F. C. Buruand. 6 male, 
1 female char. 

TWO GENTLEMEN IN A FIX. A Farce 

in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 2 male char. 

TWO HEADS BETTER THAN ONE. A 

Farce in 1 Act. By Lenox Home. 4 male, 1 female. 

THE TWO PUDDIFOOTS. A Farce in 1 

Act. Bv J. M. Morton. 3 male, 3 female char. 

AN UGLY CUSTOMER. A Farce in 1 Act. 

By Thomas J. Williams. 3 male, 2 female char. 

U1TCLE ROBERT. A Comedy in 3 Acts. 

By H. P. Curtis. 6 male, 2 female char. 

A VERY PLEASANT EVENING. A Farce 

in 1 Act. Bv W. E. Suter. 3 male char. 

THE WELSH GIRL. A Comedy in 1 Act. 

Bv Mrs. Planche. 3 male, 2 female char. 

WHICH WILL HAVE HIM? A Vaude- 

ville. 1 male, 2 fetnale char. 

THE WIFE'S SECRET. A Play in 5 Acts. 

Bv Geo. W. Levell. 10 male, 2 female char. 

YOUR LIFE'S IN DANGER, A Farce in 

1 Act. By J. M. Morton, 3 male, >< female char- 



By' 
A S( 



WALTER H. BAKER & 00., Publishers, Boston, Mass. 

P. O. Box 2846. 



GEORGE M. BAKER'S PLAYS. 

Price 15 cent s, unless ot herwise stated. 

y.? RARY 0F CONGRESS 



Drama in two 
Drama in 



ABOVE THE CLOUDS. 

acts. 7 males, 4 females. 
AMONG THE BREAKERS 

two acts. 6 males, 4 females. 
BETTER THAN GOLD. Drama in four 

acts. 5 males, 4 females. 25 Cent8. 

BON-BONS. Musical entertainment. 3 males, 

1 female. 25 Cents. 

BOSTON DIP, THE. Comedietta in one 

act. 4 males, 3 females. 
BREAD ON THE WATERS. Drama in 

two acts. 5 males, 3 females. 
CAPULETTA. Burlesque in two parts. 3 

males, 1 female. 

CHAMPION OF HER SEX, THE. Farce 

in one act. 8 females. 
CHRISTMAS CAROL, A. Christmas en. 

tertainment from Dickens. Many char. 
CLOSE SHAVE, A. Farce in one act. 6 

males. 
COALS OF FIRE. Farce in one act. 6 

males. 
COMRADES. Drama in three acts. 4 males, 

3 females. 25 cents. 
DOWN BY THE SEA. Drama in two 

acts. 6 males, 3 females. 
BROP TOO MUCH, A. Farce in one act. 

4 males, 2 females. 

DUCHESS OF DUBLIN. THE. Farce in 

one act. 6 males, 4 females. 
ENLISTED FOR THE WAR. Drama in 

three acts. 7 males, 3 females. 

FAIRY OF THE FOUNTAIN, THE. 

Play for children in two acts. 10 char. 25c. 

FLOWER OF. THE FAMILY, THE. 

Comedy-drama in three acts, 5 males. 3 fem. 
FLOWING BOWL, THE. Drama in three 

acts. 7 males, 3 females. 25 cents. 

FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. Farce in 

one act. 8 males. 
GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY. Farce 

in one act. 12 males. 
GREAT ELIXIR, THE. Farce in on« act. 

9 males. 

GREATEST PLAGUE IN LIFE, THE. 

Farce in one act. 8 females. 
GRECIAN BEND, THE. Farce in one 

act. 7 females. 

HUMORS OF THE STRIKE, THE. 

_ Fa rce in one act. 8 mal es. 
HYPOCHONDRIAC, THE. Farce in one 

act. * males. 
LAST LOAF, THE. Drama in two acts. 

«> males, 3 females. 

XIGHTHEART'S PILGRIMAGE. Alle- 

gory for schools. 8 females and chorus. 
LITTLE BROWN JUG, THE. Drama in 

three acts. 5 males, 3 females. 
LITTLE MORE CIDER, A. Farce in one 

act. 5 males, 3 females. 
LOVE OF A BONNET, A. Farce in one 

act. 5 females. 

MAN WITH THE DEMIJOHN, THE. 

Farce in one act. 4 males. 
MY BROTHER'S KEEPER. Drama in 

three acts. 5 males, 3 females. 
MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE, A. 

Farce in one act. 4 males. 
MY UNCLE THE CAPTAIN. Farce in 

one act. 6 males. 
NEVER SAY DIE. Farce in one act. 3 

males, 3 females. 
NEVADA. Drama in three acts. 8 males, 3 

females. . 25 cents. 




"13 

NO 

fen 

ONC 

4" 

ONI 

in 

°ui _. _ 016 103 651 1 - 

OUR' FOLKS. Drama in three acts. 6maies, 

5 females. 

PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE. Farce 

m one act. 7 males, 3 females. 
PAST REDEMPTION. Drama in four 
acts, o males, 4 females. 25 cents. 

PEDLAR OF VERYNICE, THE. Bur- 

lcsque. 7 males. 
PRECIOUS PICKLE, A. Farce in one 

act. 6 females. 
PUBLIC BENEFACTOR, A. Farce in 

one act. 6 males. 
REBECCA'S TRIUMPH. Drama in three 

acts. 16 females. 25 cents. 

RED CHIGNON, THE. Farce in one act. 

6 females. _ 
REVOLT OF THE BEES, THE.*Mu- 

sical allegory. 9 fem ales. 
RUNAWAYS, THE. Farce in one act. 4 

males. 
SANTA CLAUS' FR0LIC8. Christmas. 

tree entertainment. Many char. 

SCULPTOR'S TRIUMPH, THE. Alle. 

gory. 1 male, ^females. 

SEA OF TROUBLES, A. Farce in one 
act. 8 males. 

8EEING THE ELEPHANT. Temper- 
ance farce. 5 males, 2 females. 

SEVEN AGES, THE. Tableau entertain- 
ment. 7 males, 4 females. 

SHALL OUR MOTHERS VOTE? Hu- 
morous debate for n boys. 

SNOW BOUND. Musical and dramatic en- 
tertainment. 3 males, 1 fomale. 25 Cents. 

STAND BY THE FLAG. Drama in one 
act. 5 males. 

SILVIA'S SOLDIER. 



Drama in one act 



Drama in two acts. 
3 males, 2 females. 

TEMPTER, THE. 

malesji female. 

TENDER ATTACHMENT, A. Farce « 

one act. 7 males. 
THIEF OF TIME, THE. Farce in one 
act. J) males. 

THIRTY MINUTES FOR REFRESH 

ments. Farce in one act. 4 males, 3 fem. 

THORN AMONG THE ROSES, A. Com. 

edy in one act. 2 males, 8 females. 
TITANIA. Play for children in two acts. 
Many char. 25 cents. 

TOO LATE FOR THE TRAIN. Dialogue 

for 2 males, introducing songs and recitations. 

TOURNAMENT OF IDYLWENT, THE. 

Allegory for 13 females. 
VISIONS OF FREEDOM. Allegory for 

16 females. 
USING THE WEED, farce in one act. 

7 females. 
WANTED, A MALE COOK. Farce in 

one act. 4 males. 
WAR OF TFE ROSES. Allegory for 3 

females. 
WE'RE ALL TEETOTALERS. Farce la 

one scene. 4 males, 2 females. 



WALTER H. BAKER, & CO.* (P.O.Box awe), Boston, Mass. 



^KMiLl ft CO., FRINTtftS, 222 FKANKLIN tT., ••■TftN. 



